


Pure of Heart, Dumb of Ass, Home of Sexual

by A_Tomb_With_A_View



Series: Alex Mercer: Brother, Boyfriend, Son, Himbo [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alex Has Anxiety (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex and Ray bonding, Alex deals with his issues via desserts, F/M, Luke is pan, M/M, Ray is available, Reggie and Alex need parental figures, Reggie has fibromyalgia (referenced), Reggie is Bi, Reggie is dyslexic (mentioned), Willie is a Disney Princess, and Alex simps Hard for him okay, everybody in this fic simps for Julie including me and I’m not sorry about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Tomb_With_A_View/pseuds/A_Tomb_With_A_View
Summary: “Alex,” Reggie made a beeline straight for him as soon as he poofed into the studio, “you know how much you love me?”Alex looked up from where he’d been watching vine compilations on Julie’s laptop. “What do you want?”Reggie sat down next to him, paused, then started squirming about until he was half laid across Alex, smiling goofily up at him. “So remember how you’re a really great baker?”
Relationships: Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex & Ray Molina, Alex & Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Ray Molina & Reggie
Series: Alex Mercer: Brother, Boyfriend, Son, Himbo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058618
Comments: 515
Kudos: 1049





	1. Gingerbread dinosaurs

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> This is my first jatp fic, so I hope I did an okay job characterisation wise, and I hope y’all enjoy! 
> 
> (Big thanks to willex-joyner, hctuolc, and xstrangesoundsx on tumblr for hyping me up on this :)

Alex wasn’t panicking. 

That wasn’t to say he was _not_ panicking, but Reggie was giving him the look he only ever gave him when he thought Alex was panicking, and that was not what was happening.

Sure, he was hyperventilating slightly, and his blood was roaring in his ears, and he was spinning his drumstick so fast he’d already lost control of one and smacked the lovestruck expression off of Luke’s face, but that wasn’t _panic._ Luke deserved to be smacked by a high velocity drumstick when he was mooning over Julie that obviously anyways. 

It was more that they were _visible_ now, and that meant that Ray - a father - could see them - three teenage boys who each fulfilled one of the three stereotypes Alex’s father had always warned his baby sister about, the tortured artist, the bad boy, the pansy - and so Alex couldn’t pace around like he usually would, which meant that when the _uncomfortablebadnotright_ feeling starting coiling in his stomach, he’d not been able to work it out, and it had just started crawling it’s way up to his chest. That wasn’t panic. That, Julie would probably say, was his “general anxiety disorder, if WebMD is to be trusted”. 

Ray cleared his throat, seemingly catching on to how dopey Luke looked, chin resting in hand and eyes practically flashing hearts like the characters from the Tom and Jerry cartoon Carlos had been watching earlier.

Reggie flinched. Alex managed not to, but he reached out for Reggie’s hand all the same. 

“So… Julie,” Ray started, tone much softer than Alex had expected. “Do you want to introduce us?” 

Julie nodded, brushing lint off her skirt. “This is Luke.” There was an awkward pause until she nudged him. 

Luke jumped. “Right. Yes. Hi, I’m Luke, nice to officially meet you, Mr Molina.” He waved, flashing the megawatt smile that Alex had seen win hundreds of hearts in seconds.

As with every person who’d been on the receiving end of that smile, Ray seemed to soften and relax. “Nice to meet you too, Luke. You’re the lead singer who got Jules writing again, yes?” 

Luke looked almost… abashed… at that. That couldn’t be right. Luke _never_ looked nervous like that. “Uh, well I think Julie got Julie writing again, really Mr Molina. Your daughter is… well, sir. She’s incredible.”

Julie shoved him gently. “Shut up, you so helped. And it was your wrecking ball speech that got me back into the music programme at school.” 

“Oh, really?” Ray leaned over and offered his hand. “Thank you, Luke. Thank all of you, really. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Julie as happy as she’s been since you all arrived.” 

Luke stammered an awkward acceptance, shaking Ray’s hand, and Julie moved on quickly. “Dad that’s Reggie, in the leather jacket and the flannel.” Ray frowned, but Julie rushed to finish. “He’s a total sweetheart. The least bad boy to ever wear a leather jacket. He’s our bassist, and his voice is killer when he feels like singing.” 

Reggie smiled wanly. “Nice to meet you sir.” 

Alex nudged him gently, and Julie’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, but he shook them both off. Julie frowned at Alex and then Luke, but they’d both known Reggie long enough to know that he and parents didn’t mix, and as much as Reggie had grown to like Ray, now that it was a two sided conversation, they were basically back to square one. 

Ray returned his smile warmly. “Nice to meet you too, Reggie.” 

After a pause, Julie moved on. “And that’s Alex. He’s our drummer. He’s also got a pretty epic voice, but we don’t get to hear it very much.” 

Alex offered a half wave and an awkward twitch of his lips. The _uncomfortablebadnotright_ feeling had sunk claws into his throat now, and any attempt at speaking would probably end badly. 

Thankfully, Ray just nodded at him. “Nice to meet you, Alex.” 

Then, because God is Good, Willie showed up outside the window, beckoning until Luke turned to Ray. “Alex has to go, he’s made a ghost friend who’s here for him.”

Alex waved goodbye to everyone, and ruffled Reggie’s hair for good measure before poofing out and walking straight into Willie’s arms.

“You good, hotdog?” 

“Just... hold me for a minute? Please.”

”’Course, ‘Lex.” 

——

“Alex,” Reggie made a beeline straight for him as soon as he poofed into the studio, “you know how much you love me?” 

Alex looked up from where he’d been watching vine compilations on Julie’s laptop. “What do you want?” 

Reggie sat down next to him, paused, then started squirming about until he was half laid across Alex, smiling goofily up at him. “So remember how you’re a really great baker?” 

“I remember being an okay baker,” Alex replied sceptically.

“God, why can’t you just own your own awesomeness from time to time?” Reggie complained. “You once made a Baked Alaska that made Luke cry. Real tears!” 

“Okay, okay. Fine,” he relented. “Maybe I’m a pretty good baker. What of it?” 

“Okay, so you also know how me and Mr Mol-Ray are like, totally best friends now?” Reggie grabbed Alex’s hand excitedly.

“Reg,” Alex sighed exasperatedly, but squeezed Reggie’s hand fondly, “are you really asking if I remember you sobbing in my boyfriend’s arms because Mr Molina called you son after you had a heart to heart?”

“First of all, Willie gives fantastic hugs, and if you hadn’t raved about them so much, I wouldn’t have gone for him and his big fuzzy sweater. Secondly, my point is, Ray asked if I wanted to bake with him, and I totally would’ve, except Carlos and I have a Super Mario Bros tournament planned and I could never bail out on Carlos like that, but I felt too bad to just say no to Ray when he was smiling all excited like that, so!” Reggie shifted enough to do small jazz hands. “I told him that you’re a great baker and you’d probably enjoy baking with him.” 

Alex closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose deeply to avoid shoving Reggie off the sofa. 

“Uh, ‘lex?” Reggie scrambled to sit up properly and poked his shoulder. “Look, man, I know you’re nervous around Ray, but think about it! You’ll be in the kitchen, which is a room you spend a lot of time in, and you’ll be baking, which is something that you’re really good at, and it’ll be just you two, so he’s the only unknown variable. Isn't that how you always evaluate things you’re anxious about doing?” 

The next deep breath Alex took was more to stop himself getting sappy about how much he loved his dumbass little brother, but he made sure to knock his forehead against Reggie’s shoulder to make sure the message got through. 

“Thanks, Reg. I’ll think about it, okay? I haven’t baked in… god. Twenty six years? Bobby’s parents were great but they weren’t exactly letting me mess about in their kitchen whenever I wanted.” 

Before Reggie could respond, Luke wandered in, walking aimlessly in loops before finally collapsing on the couch, expression completely dazed. 

Alex shared a glance with Reggie, then turned to face their bandmate. “What now, bro? Did Julie look in your general direction?” 

“Breathe air that’s been in the same space as air that you’ve breathed?” Reggie offered. 

“Boys,” Luke didn’t even bother propping his head up to look at them, too busy grinning like a loon at the ceiling. “Boys, she kissed me.”

“ _What?”_ The both of them spoke in unison, high fiving absently as they leaned forward. 

“You’re absolutely sure?” Alex questioned. “You didn’t hallucinate it?” 

Reggie nodded. “Yeah, you definitely weren’t daydreaming?” 

Luke sighed dreamily. “We were workshopping this song from back before we died to try and fit it to our new sound, and then she sang this bit, and guys you would not _believe_ how effortlessly she hit the note at the end of it, and I guess I was doing that face,”

He paused automatically to let Reggie and Alex mimick his Julie face, picking right up once they’d stopped laughing about it. “And then she just laid one on me right there. In the kitchen! And then she just kept talking, and obviously I just kept zoning out because, dude! So she called time, and get this,” 

At this point he did sit up properly, leaning in until he was practically bumping his forehead against theirs. “She kissed me again on her way out!” 

“Bro, no way!” Reggie jumped to his feet and dragged Luke up. “I’m so happy for you!”

“That’s awesome, man!” Alex joined them quickly, pulling the both of them in for a hug. “Why is it not surprising that she made the first move, though,” he snarked, even as he let himself be dragged into a group hug.

“Alex.” Luke clutched his chest dramatically, pulling a wounded face. “I was being a gentleman.” 

“Luke, buddy, it’s okay,” Alex patted Luke’s cheek condescendingly, “we know she’s the boss.” 

Luke merely shrugged. “Yeah. She’s the boss of all of us though, so it’s not like I’m being weird. She’s just a lady who know what she wants. I respect that.”

”You mean if she slapped you, you’d thank her.” Reggie shook his head. “Rest in Peace Luke Patterson; bane of ladies everywhere because of his enticing smile and killer arms. He’s not dead, he just can’t look away from Julie Molina long enough to flirt with anyone else.”

“Aw, Reg.” Luke grabbed Reggie’s jaw and pressed a kiss on both of his cheeks. “I’ve always got time to flirt with you.”

”Plus he actually is dead,” Alex added, to save Reggie, who was blushing and stuttering like nobody’s business. 

——

Somehow, most of Alex’s problems started with Reggie making convincing arguments and ended with Alex cursing Reggie’s name under his breath. 

Baking with Mr Molina was no different. 

Instead of the traditional French pâtisseries that Alex’s mother had taught him to make growing up or the messy but love laden cupcakes that Emily Patterson had made for the band when she and Luke had still been on speaking terms, Alex ending up explaining haltingly to Mr Molina that Reggie had quite specifically requested dinosaur gingerbread biscuits, and would accept nothing else. 

“So, you see, uh. Well, it’s Reggie’s birthday in two days, and he said he wants dinosaurs? So I picked up this dinosaur cookie cutter whilst I was out the other day with my b - my friend, if that’s okay?” Alex edged closer to the door as he spoke.

Ray just laughed. “That does sound like Reggie, he didn’t tell me about his birthday though. Do you have a specific gingerbread recipe you like to use or should I find one on Google?” 

Alex blinked. “Um. I’ve not really made gingerbread before? So I don’t have a recipe I use.”

“How come, do you not like gingerbread?” Ray asked absently as he grabbed his laptop. “We can make something else if that’s the case.”

“Oh, no. I love gingerbread. Just, my mom taught me to bake these French patisseries and I wasn’t allowed to use the oven and stuff without her, so I never really tried making anything else.”

Ray quirked an eyebrow, spinning his laptop around to show Alex a recipe. “Do you miss her? Your mom and dad?”

“Not really. Yes and no,” Alex replied, scanning the ingredients. He nodded his approval and started looking through the cupboards to distract himself. “I moved out a year before we died, so I already had time to get used to it.”

“I imagine it’s still hard though.” Ray set out a large mixing bowl and a couple of smaller ones. “I can’t imagine Julie moving out now, that’s how old you would’ve been, right?” 

Alex shrugged, trying his best to keep his expression in check. “I guess. We had a big disagreement about - well, about something that was important to me. After that, they didn’t want me there and I didn’t want to be there.” 

Ray stopped moving and slowly reached out to put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry you had to go through that, mijo.”

Suddenly, Alex understood why Reggie had sobbed in Willie’s arms for a solid half hour after his heart to heart with Ray. He kind of felt like doing the same now, really. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got the boys. And Julie. Julie’s really great.”

Ray laughed and moved away. “That she is, Alex. She most definitely is. It’s all her mother.” He finished laying out everything they would need. “I know you haven’t seen her, but… I like to think my Rose sent you boys down here to look after her.” 

Alex smiled weakly. “It isn’t the craziest thing I’ve heard in the last couple months. Besides, even if she didn’t? You’re doing a first rate job with Julie. She didn’t need magical intervention, she just needed to talk to some people who didn’t know Mrs Molina.”

“I think she just needed to speak to Luke,” Ray said. “They seem quite enamoured with each other.”

“Oh my god, tell me about it.” Alex relaxed a little more. “Julie kissed him the other day, and I swear, Luke was smiling like a dope the rest of the day.”

Ray grinned. “So was Julie.” He started weighing the ingredients out, giving Alex tasks to do as he went. “So is there anybody special in your life?” He asked, teasing tone dialed down.

Alex spluttered, and almost threw the bowl of butter and sugar he’d been mixing across the room. “Oh. Um. I guess? Well, yeah, I guess. It’s another ghost. We met when I went for a walk down on Hollywood Boulevard, and we’ve just kind of been meeting up as and when we can since then.”

“That sounds lovely,” Ray told him sincerely. “Now do you think that’s ready for the treacle?”

He inspected the butter and sugar he’d been mindlessly beating as they’d talked. “Yeah, I think so. It looks okay to me.”

They kept working, switching on and off so that Ray was whisking eggs while Alex weighed out the flour and spices. 

“Aw, fuck.” Alex muttered, glancing furtatively between between the laptop screen and the measuring spoons. He looked up at Ray. “Firstly, I’m sorry for swearing. Secondly, I fucked up.” 

Ray waved it off. “Don’t worry about it, I have a teenage daughter I know how you all get.” He put down his fork. “Now what’s gone wrong?” 

“Okay, so the recipe, I have just now realised, says two teaspoons of ginger, and half a teaspoon of clove. The flour now has two _table_ spoons of ginger, and a teaspoon and a half of clove, which wouldn’t be that big of a deal except clove is really strong and we’re definitely gonna be able to taste it.” Alex tapped out the rhythm from one of Reggie’s country songs to keep himself present. 

“Eh, it’ll be fine,” Ray said, shrugging. “One time I tried to get Julie to cook with me, and she spilt a whole packet of chilli flakes into the spaghetti. If I can eat that, I can eat this.” 

Alex felt his lips twitch halfway into a smile. “ _Julie_ did that? Hypercompetent talent machine Julie Molina ruined spaghetti?”

Ray held his hands up. “Carlos tried to get me to trick their Tía into eating some, but that woman is a force of nature and I think she would’ve killed me.”

“So the force of nature schtick,” Alex grinned tentatively, “that’s a Molina women thing, then?” 

“Oh absolutely.” Ray started sifting flour into the mixing bowl, nudging Alex gently every minute or two to stir it in. “When the three of them teamed up, they could move mountains.”

“Knowing Julie, I can believe that.” Alex carefully started kneading the dough to mix the last of the flour in, pulling a face at the texture. 

“Now enough about us,” Ray started wiping down the table to clean off all the flour Alex had spilt weighing things out. “Tell me about you. All Julie tells me is that you’re a good drummer, dancer and singer.”

Alex cursed under his breath as his cheeks heated. He was _dead,_ still being able to blush was wholly unreasonable. “I’m not that great a dancer.”

“But you are a good drummer and singer?” Ray teased.

“Reg and Luke would probably poof in to tell me off if I said I wasn’t,” Alex admitted. “But, yeah. What do you want to know?” 

“Just whatever you want to tell me.” Ray squeezed his shoulder. “Reggie had a lot to say, and even Luke seemed happy to get some stuff out. Just say what you want to say.”

“I-.. okay.” Alex nodded, wrapping the ball of dough in cling film carefully. “Uh, my parents were really Christian. Like… _really_ Christian. And I didn’t mind it that much growing up, Church was a place to meet friends, y’know? And my little sister liked the chance to dress up once a week, so it was nice.

“But, well, a rockband isn’t really the future they’d imagined for their kid, and I was decent enough at maths and science but… those boys? Drumming? They’re everything to me, and my parents didn’t get that, I guess. One thing led to another and my dad told me to leave and my mom didn’t argue. So I left.”

“That must’ve been so hard,” Ray said sympathetically. “I can’t imagine what it was like for you.”

Alex shrugged, exhaling shakily. “It was and it wasn’t, y’know? I moved into Bobby’s garage, well, your garage, now. And it wasn’t that bad, really. Reggie followed pretty quickly, even though he went home sometimes if his folks stopped arguing long enough to notice he’d not been back in a few days, or even weeks, and eventually Luke joined us too. It was every kids dream - living on microwave pizza and Bobby’s dad’s cooking, the four of us living together, barely any rules.” 

“Except..”

“Yeah. Except Reggie’s got a scar from when his dad threw a lamp and it was supposed to hit the wall next to his mom but missed, and Luke cries himself to sleep on Mother’s Day and I don’t know if I’ve even got a grave.” Alex pressed his lips together until tears stopped stinging his eyes. “But staying would’ve been worse, for all of us.” 

“That doesn’t mean that what you did was easy,” Ray told him, jamming the dough into the fridge. 

Reggie poofed into the room before he could say anything else and plastered himself against Alex’s back. “My Alex-is-sad senses were tingling so Carlos is taking over for a while,” he said into Alex’s shoulder. “Why are you sad?” 

Alex laughed wetly. “It’s a good sad Reg. cathartic sad.” 

Luke appeared seconds later. “My Alex-and-Reggie-are-cuddling-without-me senses were tingling,” he announced. “Make room.” 

Reggie moved back to let Alex turned around then dragged him back into a hug, shuffling over to make room for Luke as Ray watched in bewilderment. 

Julie ran in after a minute. “Is Luke in here? He said something about his senses then disappea-” she stopped short as she caught sight of the trio. “Is there any room for one more?” 

Alex lifted his head and beckoned her over. “These fools decided they needed hugs,” he told her, resolutely ignoring how wet his cheeks felt and how his voice shook. 

“Ah.” Julie nodded. “So emotional, these two.” She poked at Luke’s side until he made room for her, then tucked herself into Alex’s side. “Inconveniencing us like this.” 

“I know, right?” He pulled the three of them closer and pressed a brief kiss to each of their temples. “How dare they.” 

——

It was pretty fortunate that the dough needed at least three hours in the fridge, because, in a great feat of puppy dog eyes that Alex himself didn’t understand, Julie, Reggie, and Luke bullied him and Ray into watching the first five episodes of Schitt’s Creek, which was confusing sometimes, but pretty funny, especially when Carlos repeatedly tried to join in, only to be shooed out by Ray and Reggie insisting he was too young.

When the timer finally went off for the dough to come out of the fridge, Reggie shot up excitedly, knocking Alex to the floor. “It’s time! Lexi! Where’s my dinosaur?” 

Alex groaned. “Dude, my ribs.”

Reggie winced. “Sorry, man.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex dismissed as he got to his feet. “The dinosaur cutter is in the kitchen with the rolling pin.”

“C’mon then.” He grabbed Alex’s hand and tugged him towards the kitchen. “Ray, are you coming?”

Ray laughed and stood up. “Slow down, mijo. The dough will still be there in a minute.”

“Ray,” Reggie said seriously. “I don’t think you quite understand the magnitude of the situation. We are talking about gingerbread dinosaurs here. Gingerbread. Dinosaurs.” 

Alex raised an eyebrow at Luke over Reggie’s shoulder. “That’s a fancy word,” he said. “You been reading dictionaries, Reg?” 

Reggie stuck his tongue out, but then ducked his head. “There’s a spelling game on Carlos’ XBox that we do together. The letters are really big and he changes the colour of the screen so it’s easier for me to read,” he admitted quietly. 

“Hey, that’s awesome!” He nudged his shoulder against Reggie’s. “Look at you being all smart.”

Reggie opened his mouth to respond, cheeks turning a blotchy pink, but he caught sight of the cookie cutter set before he could and lit up. “Oh my god! Alex!” 

Alex grinned at him. “You ready to do this?” 

“I’m always ready for gingerbread,” Reggie and Ray replied in unison, then high fived. They didn’t quite have the instinctive, no-look high five that Luke, Alex and Reggie had perfected years ago, but they were damn close for only having being able to interact for a month. 

The three of them pretty quickly set up their own stations after splitting the dough into three, each producing their own tray of gingerbread dinosaurs despite Luke and Julie’s commentating. 

“And here we have Ray Molina,” Julie announced, voice oddly intonated to mimic news readers. “He’s got a lead over our other competitors, Alexander and Reginald Molina, but it’s a short one folks! Can he pull it off and beat them to be the first to make a complete tray?” 

Luke attempted to do the same, but both Alex and Reggie had frozen, staring at Julie with wide, shining eyes and slack jaws. “Julie,” he complained. “You broke our band mates. How are we gonna dominate the music scene and take over the world if you broke our band mates?” 

Julie looked up. “What’s wrong with you two?” 

“M-Molina?” Reggie echoed, glancing between her and Ray. 

“Mhm,” Alex agreed, voice an octave higher than he’d intended. 

“Well, you’ve never told me your last names,” she shrugged. “And it sounds like your parents kinda sucked, and you’ve basically imprinted on my dad and brother. So yeah, why not?” 

Reggie and Alex looked at each other and then back at Julie. “And is Mr Molina okay with that?” Alex questioned. “I don’t think you can adopt people like that.”

“What did I tell you, Alex? Molina women are forces of nature. If Julie has decided you’re family,” he raised his hands in surrender. “Then I guess you’re family. But I gotta insist you call me Ray if you’re going to take my wife’s surname.”

“Okay,” Alex nodded quickly. “Okay. That’s… okay. Why not?” 

Reggie leant against Luke until the other boy was supporting the majority of his weight. “How does it feel to be the only non-Molina in the room?” He singsonged.

Luke grinned down at him. “All I gotta do is marry Julie, and I’m so down for that. She’s amazing.” 

Alex threw flour at him. “Shut the fuck up, man. You’re making Reggie feel single!” 

“Hey!” Reggie dusted off the flour that had landed on him, then grabbed a handful and launched himself at Alex. 

Alex caught him, barely, but didn’t manage to avoid having flour scrubbed into his hair and smeared across his face. 

“Boys,” Ray called, amused smile counteracting his stern tone.

The pair of them stopped immediately and turned to look at him innocently, Alex holding Reggie up with one arm around under his armpit and the other losing grip on his thigh, Reggie clinging to Alex with one arm around his neck and his other hand clutching the shoulder of his hoodie. 

“The longer you fight, the longer you have to spend sweeping up flour, which means the longer you have to wait for your cookies.”

Reggie immediately let go of Alex, and Alex groaned and almost dropped him, but just about managed to lower him to the ground carefully. 

——

They finished cutting the dinosaurs out quite quickly after that, but Alex and Ray decided that the others were banned from the kitchen until they’d finished completely, though it took Alex and Ray refusing to make eye contact with Reggie until he agreed to go back upstairs for his Mario tournament with Carlos to avoid getting suckered by his pleading expression. 

Their biggest obstacle, it turned out, was the icing. 

Alex was artistic in that he could put a beat to any melody, and in that he could pick up the basics of a dance routine by watching it, and in that he enjoyed looking at beautiful things (Willie). 

Ray was artistic in that he could turn even the blandest of scenes into a dramatic photo, and in that he could sketch out a decent replica of a simple image, and in that he could do eyeliner on Julie as sharp as Flynn’s.

Unfortunately, none of their skills transferred to decorative icing, as much as they tried. Some of the dinosaurs looked okay, but some of them looked terrible, and they ended up ushering Julie in whilst Luke was distracted with Reggie and Carlos’s game to finish it off for them.

“Alex, you literally have the best hand-eye coordination of anyone, ever,” Julie complained as she carefully iced a spikes along the spine of a dinosaur. “How are you not good at this?” 

“Jules…” Ray said sternly. “Don’t be mean to Alex. It’s not his fault that he can’t draw.”

Alex pulled a face. “You weren’t any better at this than me!” 

Ray grinned. “The one good dinosaur that came out of our efforts was one of mine.” 

“It’s hardly _good,_ it’s just not terrible,” Alex informed him primly. “And I’m not the one with a career in the arts.” 

Julie ooh’ed. “He’s got you there, papi.” 

“Betrayal,” Ray shook his head dramatically. “From my own daughter at that. What am i gonna do with you, mariposa?” 

“Thank me extensively, because now you have some decent looking dinosaurs you can show Reggie,” Julie told them, waving her hand in a ‘go on’ gesture. 

“You,” Ray smushed her cheeks together and kissed her forehead, “are an absolute angel, mija, and don’t you ever forget it.”

Alex nodded quickly and hugged her once Ray had released her. “You know you’re totally my favourite person, right? I will grant you one instance where I’ll admit it to Reggie and Luke.” 

Julie’s eyes unfocused and she smiled slightly evilly at the wall behind him. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He shrugged. “I’d regret disappointing Reggie more, so if this is how it’s gotta be, then this is how it’s gotta be.” 

“Famous last words,” she singsonged before leaving to fetch the boys. 

Ray grinned at him once she’d left. “You wanna do this again, Alex? I have a whole list of things I’ve been wanting to try bake, but with two talentless children I thought I’d never get the chance.”

“Actually,” Alex smiled back brightly, realising that ever since he’d set foot in the kitchen after lunch, the _uncomfortablebadnotright_ feeling hadn’t come back at all, even when he’d talked about his parents. “I’d really like that, thanks Ray.” 

  
  



	2. Marble Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Alex.” Luke flopped onto the sofa, landing with his head in Alex’s lap, and smiled up at him pleadingly. “Remember how you take baking requests?” 
> 
> Alex sighed and started carding his fingers through Luke’s hair automatically. “I don’t take requests, Reggie bullied me into it and then asked me to do dinosaurs since it was his birthday. It’s not your birthday, no requests for you.” 
> 
> “Ah.” Luke grinned. “But it is Julie’s birthday, and Julie is all of our favourite person, and her favourite cake is chocolate and vanilla marble cake. You gonna tell me you won’t make Julie’s favourite cake for her sweet sixteenth?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick things:  
> \- I gave Reggie fibromyalgia which is not explicitly referenced but that’s what I’m on abt when I références flares, hot water bottles, being careful with laying on each other etc bc I wrote him as having it in And here you are living, Despite it all and Reggie with fibro is now my comfort character ig lol  
> -he’s a maths whizz bc he reminds me of my friend who’s socially naive but very smart  
> \- I hope y’all enjoy :)))

“So, Alex.” Luke flopped onto the sofa, landing with his head in Alex’s lap, and smiled up at him pleadingly. “Remember how you take baking requests?” 

Alex sighed and started carding his fingers through Luke’s hair automatically. “I don’t take requests, Reggie bullied me into it and then asked me to do dinosaurs since it was his birthday. It’s not your birthday, no requests for you.” 

“Ah.” Luke grinned. “But it  _ is  _ Julie’s birthday, and Julie is all of our favourite person, and her favourite cake is chocolate and vanilla marble cake. You gonna tell me you won’t make Julie’s favourite cake for her sweet sixteenth?” 

He paused. “I’m only agreeing to this because I know that if this was your request you’d ask for something ridiculise like a soufflé or crème brûlée.” 

“And because we love Julie,” Luke added. “That part is the important one to mention to her. Y’know, that this was my idea and I totally would’ve done it myself if I had any baking skills.” 

“If I mention it to her… what do I get out of it?” 

“I’ll teach you to skate so you can impress Willie?” 

“...Done.” 

——

“Alex, have you never seen anyone skateboard literally ever?” Luke asked, arms crossed and eyebrows pulled together.

Reggie frowned. “Luke, his boyfriend skateboards, so I’m pretty sure he’s… oh. Nevermind.” 

Luke slung an arm around Reggie and hugged him close. “Don’t worry about it, man. Now, we need to get Lexi to be a competent skateboarder so that he’ll bake a cake so that Julie thinks I’m sweet and romantic, which obviously I am.” 

“You want to turn that,” Reggie pointed at where Alex was clinging to a wall, feet on the skateboard they’d dug out of the loft, “into a competent skateboarder?” 

“Hey!” Alex stood up straight indignantly. “I’m the most competent of the three of us!” 

Reggie subtly high fived Luke as Alex realised he was actually standing on the board by himself without falling to his second death. 

“Okay,” Luke said, clapping his hands together. “Now, feet further apart, back foot angled a bit - there!”

The pair of them watched as Alex got confident, and then went flying off the board as he hit a rock. He poofed out in enough time to save himself, and they heard a thud and a groan as he landed on the sofa in the garage. 

“I could just… bake for him? Right?” He called. 

Luke rolled his eyes and dragged Reggie through. “Or you could realise that you’re an incredible drummer, an awesome singer, a great friend, and an overall stand up guy, so you don’t need to impress him with gifts or learning to skate. Plus, I know you refuse to admit this, man, but you’re kind hot.”

Reggie nodded. “Not my type but I’d totally go there.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, then sagged into the couch. “Thanks, guys. I guess I should give up skateboarding, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” Luke nodded. 

“No problem,” Reggie replied at the same time, sprawling out on top of Alex. “So when are you baking the cake?” 

Alex groaned, but shifted to accommodate his weight. “Probably tomorrow. Ray has the day off, remember? Will you guys distract Julie for me?” 

“Yeah. I’ll take her out.” Luke sat cross legged on the arm of the sofa. “She’s been wanting to go see this new movie for ages anyways.” 

“Ooooh.” Reggie wiggled his eyebrows. “You should buy her flowers!” 

“Reggie, we can’t even be seen all the time when we’re not around Julie. How am I supposed to buy her flowers?” 

Reggie rolled his eyes. “God, Luke, just ask her to take you to the shops, wander off, buy flowers, then poof back here and drop them off before poofing back. Boom.” 

“That…” Luke blinked. “That is actually a great idea. You’re a genius, Reg.” He kissed Reggie’s forehead, ruffled Alex’s here, then ran out. “Thanks, boys!” 

“Nice thinking, Reg.” Alex coughed. “Think you can get off me now, though?” 

“I don’t have a body, ‘Lex. Stop pretending I weigh anything and accept my affection.” 

“Ugh, I hate you,” Alex muttered, wrapping his arms around Reggie. 

“No, you don’t.” 

“Shhhh.” 

“So, when are you gonna tell Ray about Willie?” Reggie asked after a minute of silence.

“Uh… after you tell him why you flinch at slammed doors?” Alex tried, then sighed immediately and hugged Reggie tighter. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” 

“It was,” Reggie agreed. “But, they’re rooted in the same thing, so I understand.”

“I just… my parents were great, before, I mean. My mom baked with me, and my dad was the one that got me into rock music. I trusted them enough to come out to them in  _ 1995,  _ man. I know Ray has been awesome with us, and I’m so grateful for what he’s done for us so far. But… my judgement has been wrong before, Reg. I can’t go through that again.” 

“I know, man, but it’s gonna be so much harder when you’re more attached. We’ve only known him for a couple’a months, and I’ve almost called him dad three times. Give it a year, then what? How much more is it gonna crush you?” Reggie asked him, watching Alex with an intensity that always surprised him, no matter how many nuggets of wisdom Reggie came out with.

Alex wrinkled his nose. “When did you get so wise?” He complained, as he always did. “I’m the mom friend, I'm supposed to hand out advice.”

Reggie poked his nose and finally clambered off him. “I tutored you in maths, dude, I’ve always been the smart one. Plus, you’re only the mom friend because you have anxiety, and stress about things like raw cookie dough being dangerous.” 

“Raw cookie dough could have salmonella, Reginald, that’s a reasonable thing to stress about!” 

“Yeah, but like… you’d eat a bath bomb if it looked enough like a cake.” 

“Not again, I wouldn’t,” Alex informed him primly. “It doesn’t taste very nice.” 

“I’m pretty sure bath bombs are worse for you than raw egg, ‘Lex.” Reggie offered him a hand. 

“My mom scrubbed my mouth out with soap like three times,” Alex said dismissively, letting Reggie pull him to his feet. “But we  _ died  _ of food poisoning.” 

“You raise a good point.” Reggie nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“Besides,” Alex smiled proudly, “Julie says I can’t do maths because I’m gay, which apparently is a thing.”

“I like guys too, buddy, you’re just not maths smart.” 

Alex pulled a face. “Fuck you and your formula literacy.” 

——

“So,” Ray said slowly. “I’m assuming the choice of cake came from Luke?” 

Alex bobbed his head in agreement as he flicked through the recipe book to find the page he’d liked the look of. “He’s completely enamoured. Flynn called him a simp yesterday, and I’m not one hundred percent certain on what that means, but I think it’s the same thing?” 

Ray laughed. “I wouldn’t have a clue, niño. Kids and their new words. I just leave them too it.” 

“My um. My ghost… friend. My ghost friend is teaching me about things like that.” He finally found the page he was looking for and started grabbing ingredients out of the cupboard. “But I guess we haven’t reached simp yet.” 

“Is that the Julie-to-your-Luke ghost friend or an actual ghost friend ghost friend?” Ray asked casually as he pulled out mixing bowls and an old fashioned weighing scale. 

Alex spluttered. “Firstly, I’m offended you think I’m the Luke in this equation,” he said indignantly, then deflated. “But yeah. The Julie-to-my-Luke ghost friend.”

“Mijo…” Ray raised an eyebrow. “You know you, Reggie and Luke are just variations of the same person, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex nodded, sighing dramatically.. “The maths, the mind, the music. I know.” 

“What’s that?” Ray handed him a newer looking weighing scale, and started measuring out the ingredients. His older scale was pretty cool; a plate that he added little weights to, and a bowl that he poured the ingredients into, judging by a small needle that pointed to the centre of a heart shaped twist of metal in the middle. 

“Oh, it’s what our teachers used to call us. Reggie’s a maths whiz, but he doesn’t like anything else at school, so he’s the maths. I’ve got anxiety, or at least something similar, so I’m the mind. And Luke… Luke’s never wanted to do anything but music. He showed up to kindergarten with a kid’s keyboard, and he dropped out of high school as the lead singer of an up and coming rock band. He’s the music.”

“And you guys aren’t the music?” Ray attempted to beat the butter and sugar, but quickly gave up. He turned the hob on and showed Alex how to hold the mixing bowl over the flame until the butter was more malleable. “You know it’s time when you start feeling the heat through your gloves. If it’s not quite enough, you can do the same again.” 

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Alex mimicked him carefully, allowing him to adjust his position slightly so he didn’t set the oven mits on fire. “I guess not? Reg and I grew into music. My dad introduced me to rock when I was a kid, and it was his idea that I learned to play something. It took me a few tries before I found the drums, and at first it was more of an outlet than an explicit love for playing. 

“That makes sense.” 

“And for Reg… he was interested in the maths of it, at first. Letters don’t come easy to him, they get all jumbled in his head, and he doesn’t pick up on social queues and stuff very easily, but numbers? God, if I could do the things Reg can do with numbers I’d’a started counting cards in Vegas as soon as I was legal and never looked back. At first he was just interested in the maths of music, the way a certain collection of notes create something beautiful, but others create dissonance, how many beats you can fit in a bar before human limitations kick in, that kind of thing. But Luke’s sun rises and sets with music. He’s never found a feeling he couldn’t write about or a riff he couldn’t pick up.” 

“So how did the three of you end up in a band together? If you don’t mind me asking?” Ray squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. 

“Four of us,” Alex corrected quietly. “There were four of us. You know him as Trevor Wilson, but to us he was Bobby. He was our rhythm guitarist, and he was the only one of us with any damn social skills.” 

“Tell me about him?” Ray stopped sifting flour to look at him properly. 

Alex laughed, but it was choked, the lump in his throat making it come out all strangled. “Me, Luke and Reggie now… they’re my family, and I think that’s pretty obvious. But god, did we hate each other at first.” 

“Really?” Ray put everything down and patted the chair next to him. 

“Oh, yeah.” Alex sat down. “I mean, Kindergarten? Reggie’s sat in the corner doing maths problems for fun that would make college professors turn in their graves, it’s my first day and I’m just stressed as all get out because it’s the most noise in one place I’ve ever heard, and Luke is in the other corner, prodding this kid’s keyboard like it’s the eighth wonder of the world.” He breathed out shakily and started tapping out a beat on his thigh.

“So Luke’s playing distracts Reggie, who gets annoyed, I get even more stressed because they’re making  _ more  _ noise, and before you know it, first brawl. Six years later, Bobby is friends with all of us individually, and he drags us to this practice room like he’s some kind of teacher or manager.”

“That does sound a bit like Trevor,” Ray agreed. 

Alex rubbed his eyes. “So he just looks at us all, and starts very firmly says Reg is killer on the bass, Alex, you can drum, Luke, you sing and play lead guitar, and I’ll play guitar and make sure people don’t hate you.” 

“When he was  _ ten _ ?” 

“Bobby’s always been twenty seven at heart,” Alex reasoned. 

Ray just shrugged and motioned for him to continue. 

“So yeah, none of us really had a good enough reason to get out of it, so we formed a band.” Alex shrugged. “It took us six months to stop hating each other and become thick as thieves, two years to come up with the name Sunset Curve, and four and a half years to start writing original songs.” 

Ray winced. “But you got there eventually?” He offered.

Alex nodded. “Yeah. People have often referred to us as brothers, but I kind of thing that detracts something from it sometimes. With siblings, you wake up every day to this person who knows you and your life better than everyone, and one day you end up in a situation and you realise you love that person more than life itself. With Reg and Luke and Bobby I had to make that choice every time I saw them. Do I put up with the teasing for the sake of some de-stressing, or do I go home and have a panic attack but have to talk to people? Sure, somewhere along the line that became love, but I had a choice.” 

“And you think calling yourselves brothers takes away from that choice?” Ray guessed, picking up his mixing spoon again. “Can I tell you something?” 

“Sure.” Alex started mixing again as well. 

“Most siblings have to make that choice too,” Ray told him, smiling conspiratorially. “Some of them get along from day one, but most of them have to keep choosing to spend time together instead of making new friends, choosing to extend the olive branch after a fight, choosing to bond over their shared experiences instead of fighting over the details.”

“I-” 

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” Ray assured him. “I just meant… choosing a word would be complicated if you reject brothers off the bat. But you made the choice to see Julie as your sister, just as much as you  _ chose  _ to see Reggie and Luke as what they are to you know. Siblings have a million opportunities to grow apart. It’s the  _ choices  _ that make close siblings, choices that you’ve made over and over again with Reggie and Luke.” 

“I… I guess. I just. It’s so weird because we have this special word for romantic relationships and blood relationships, but best friends doesn’t fit, y’know? Like..” Alex shook his head, beating his eggs harshly. “Even before the three of us died together, the four of us were everything. We were  _ that  _ friendship group, the one that made you wish you’d found your people already, and we lost Bobby, and he stole our music but I miss him  _ so  _ much, every day, but I don’t wish he’d died because dying was- was awful, but at the same time I wish he had because I’m even closer with Reggie and Luke since it happened and-” he cut himself off, forcing himself to breathe slowly and focus on sifting the flour in in sections. 

“Everything is just so different, even being around Reg and Luke, and every time something new happens I just want to turn to my other side and tell Bobby, and he’s not here.” 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Ray asked, reaching out to ruffle his hair fondly.

“Uhm. What?” Alex blinked up at him. “I- what?” 

“Well, you’re talking to me, yeah?” Ray motioned between them. “So go visit him. He and Carrie saw your Orpheum performance, so he must know you guys are back. Carrie and Julie are beginning to get along, so go with her next time. See your friend.” 

“I… is that allowed?” Alex stared into his mixing bowl like it would provide some sort of answer. “I know that’s a stupid question… but. I can do that?” 

“Príncipe, you are dead,” Ray said frankly. “The rules of life don’t apply. If you want to go speak to your best friend, go speak to him. See why he stole your music, but most importantly, do what you need to do for you. Tell him about your Julie, about your actual Julie, about everything. If he is still who he was when you knew him, he’ll overcome everything else.” 

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” He checked the recipe book. “Are we sure there’s not supposed to be any vanilla in this?” 

Ray started measuring out cocoa power for his batter. “Just put it in if you want to. Now, do you mind telling me about your anxiety? Just in case there’s anything I can do to make things easier for you.” 

“Oh.” Alex coughed around the lump that had reappeared in his throat. “I don’t know for certain that’s what I have. Generalised anxiety disorder was a new thing when I was growing up - for my folks it had been Anxiety Neurosis, which is a pretty scary thing to say your kid has.” 

“Do you think 350 degrees is hot enough?” Ray interrupted him, holding the recipe up. “I don’t think I’ve ever cooked a cake at 350. Sorry, please continue.”

“If it’s what the recipe says I guess we should go with it?” Alex suggested. “Anyways, um. So, my parents weren’t doctors, and the idea of anxiety as a thing didn’t really reach the non-medial ranks until a bit later, and by then I guess they’d just decided I was high strung?” 

“ _ Victoria  _ is high strung,” Ray joked affectionately. “You are a little different, mijo.”

“Yeah, but… I mean I was only seventeen when I died.” Alex shrugged, adding a tablespoon of water to his mixture. “And I moved out when I was sixteen, and there were a few months before that that were… well. Tense. And no one listens to your feelings when you’re a teenager because teenagers have hormones and school and stuff.” 

“Woah, hold up.” Ray held his hand up. “Teenagers are going through the most stressful part of life.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed. “Exactly. How are you supposed to accurately tell whether you’ve got anxiety or if you’re just bugging out during the most stressful period of your life?” 

“No, Alex. Teenagers are going through the most stressful part of their life so it’s more important than any other time to listen to them. Even if you grow out of whatever it is that’s causing a problem, you shouldn’t just be ignoring it because you’re young.” He squeezed Alex’s elbow gently. “And now you’re seventeen forever. Do you just plan to ignore all your problems?” 

“I wish I could,” Alex complained as he started to pour a little of his mixture into the cake tin. “Everything just seems like such a big problem  _ all  _ the time. It’s like… when I get anxious about something, it’s like my whole body is trying to crawl out of my skin and triggering alarm bells just so I know how dangerous something is, except that something is ridiculous and obviously harmless , like being honest with someone, or the dark, or being in a crowd.” 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Reggie tapped his hand so he put his bowl down. “Do you blame Reggie for finding reading harder than you do?” 

“... no.” 

“Okay. Do you blame Luke for finding it hard to focus on things that aren’t music?” 

“No.” Alex sighed. 

“So why do you blame yourself for finding it hard to feel safe?” 

“Because I am safe!” Alex exploded, then flinched back into himself. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, I’m… I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Alex.” Ray held his arms out, but let Alex step into them before wrapping them around him. “Your brain is just wired a little differently, okay?” 

“Okay,” he mumbled, stepping back after a minute. “I just wish everything made more sense. If I ran the afterlife, if I  _ had  _ to put ghosts in, you’d get welcomed to ghosthood with hotel front desk chocolates and a rule book.” 

Ray offered him a toothpick to start drawing swirls into the combined mixture. “Why don’t you write your own rule book?” 

Alex paused halfway through feathering the colours together. “What?” 

“Write down what you know for sure,” he suggested. “Make amendments as and when you learn new things. Write down questions for things you don’t know.”

“You want me to write the afterlife rule book?” Alex asked flatly. 

“I don’t  _ want _ you to do anything. But you want a rule book, and your ghost Julie-friend sounds like she knows a lot of the rules of the afterlife. So why not?” 

“Uh, bcause I’ve been a ghost for, like, three months?” 

Ray held his hands up in surrender. “It was only a suggestion, burbujita. Now do a little circle in the centre, there we go.”

“It’s not a  _ terrible  _ idea,” Alex relented as he slid the cake into the oven.

“You’re so gracious,” Ray teased. “Now you wash, I’ll dry.” 

“I can’t believe I’m dead and I still have to do the dishes.” 

“We’ll best believe it fast, kiddo, they’re not going to wash themselves.”

——

“Are you sure it said thirty minutes?” Ray asked for the fifth time, peering through the window of the oven door. “At 350 degrees?” 

“You read the recipe yourself, Ray. That’s what it says.” Alex shrugged. 

“I don’t trust it,” he announced. “It should be hotter, I think.” 

Alex cleared his throat and stared at the table. “What if we’re wrong, though? What if it is supposed to be 350 and we ruin Julie’s cake? If we’re right, we can just leave it in for longer until it’s done, but if we’re wrong we could burn it, or it might rise too fast.” He tapped out the beat of the song he’d heard Julie working on last night. “It just feels safer to go with it?” 

“Hey, hey.” He carefully gripped Alex’s shoulders, but didn’t force him to make eye contact. “That’s okay. We can leave it as is, but I think it will take a lot longer. Then we’ll have to guesstimate the time it cooks for. How about we google a recipe and see what bake time and temperature that tells us?” 

“Okay. Yeah. Um. That sounds good,” he nodded. “I don’t know how to use google though? I think Reg figured it out, but I haven’t really tried yet and it kinda scares me.”

“I will leave it to your ghost friend to teach you, or at least Julie, I’m sure they know much more than me.” Ray pulled out his phone and tapped around for a few minutes as Alex watched, frown growing. “They all say 350 degrees. This one says 350 for anywhere between half an hour and an hour and a quarter, what is that supposed to mean? Why do they all say different times?” 

Alex shrugged, peering over Ray’s shoulder. Phones confused him a lot, but they were pretty damn cool when he wasn’t working himself into a panic trying to figure out why the screen had frozen. “Maybe the temperature is right and the time just depends on your oven and the exact consistency and stuff of your cake?” 

They both turned to the oven and sighed. 

“So we’re just gonna have to wing the time, aren’t we?” Alex asked after a minute of disappointed staring didn’t result in some magical intervention from a baking deity. 

“I guess so. Shall we give it half an hour then check it with a toothpick?” Ray rifled around in a draw until he triumphantly pulled out a box of toothpicks. “I knew we had these somewhere.” 

“None of the recipes say less than half an hour, so I say we just give it forty five minutes?” Alex suggested. 

“Sounds good to me. Are we gathering the gang for that show they made us watch last time? That was good.” Ray set a time and directed him out of the kitchen. “And when are you bringing your ghost-Julie for dinner?” 

Alex choked on air and tripped over the carpet. “What? Oh. Um. Not- Not yet? It’s really new, and it would be really awkward if they can’t be seen by lifers and Julie hasn’t even met them, so we’re gonna start there to make sure there’s even any point to that kind of thing and-”

“Alex,” Ray interrupted, shepherding him onto the sofa. “I was teasing. You don’t have to bring them around ever, if you don’t want to, okay? I would love to meet her when you’re ready, but I don’t care when that is. Family dinners are for everybody, and if they are making you anxious then it’s not a family dinner. Okay?” 

“In my experience family dinners are  _ exclusively  _ for making me anxious,” Alex retorted automatically. 

“You didn’t like family dinners?.” He moved to turn the tv on, but easily acquiesced when Alex stopped him. 

“Sorry, I um. I can’t focus on two sounds at once? I’m sorry. And I liked family dinners when I was little, but when I got older my parents kind of… became focused on my grades and how they weren’t a big fan of the band, which is weird because my dad introduced me to rock but, whatever, and then after the big fall out thingy they were just. Hell.” 

“Ah.” Ray nodded and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed. We’ll have to get you boys used to good family dinners then? You think we can convince Victoria not to freak out about me accidentally adopting three ghost boys?”

Alex relaxed into the corner of the sofa, tucking his knees up to his chest. “That sounds awesome. Reggie’d love it, especially. And maybe just… don’t tell her we’re ghosts? Tell her we’re like… I don’t know… Julie’s band and we’re visiting?” 

“You think that’ll work?”

“Oh, n-no… no,” Alex shook his head. “Luke will make some comment about not having eaten in twenty five years, Reg might get a flare and start flickering because he’s stressing about impressing her, and I’ll probably end up reminding him that he’s dead and shouldn’t worry about impressing lifers.”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you going somewhere with this?” 

“Yes, I’m getting there!” Alex waved a hand dismissively. “But, if she comes over earlier than the start of dinner, she’ll become fond of us because we’re lovable, and Reggie is the best person in the world except for Julie, and then when we inevitably end up telling her we’re dead, she’ll already like us enough to not care.” 

“Do you always make plans that bank on Reggie being lovable?” Ray asked, amused.

“Could you look Reggie in the eyes and tell him he’s a monster?” Alex challenged, crossing his arms.

Ray conceded quickly. “That… yeah. No, you’re completely right. Speaking of Reggie, he mentioned hot water bottles helping when he was alive, so I was thinking of getting him one. Do you think I should get one with a dinosaur cover or a plain fluffy one?” 

“Dinosaur, definitely.”

——

Alex sank a second toothpick into the centre of the cake and pulled it out, looking back to Ray incredulously. “It’s been in the oven for like, an hour? How is it not cooked?” His voice rose in pitch as he looked frantically between the cake and the recipe book. 

“I would love to tell you.” Ray sighed, letting his forehead thud against the kitchen table. “Should we just turn the heat up?”

“Fuck it. Sure.” Alex dialled the heat up, then sprawled back on the floor. “Do you mind if Reg shows up?” 

“‘Course not, Alex.” Ray’s voice was muffled, seeing as he mostly spoke into the table, but he still sounded fond, so Alex nodded and lay back. 

“Reg!” 

“There’s no way that was loud enough-” Ray looked up and blinked. “Oh. Hi, Reggie.”

“Hi, Ray!” Reggie waved and looked down. “How’s the baking going?” 

Alex pulled himself to his feet sluggishly. “Awful. The cake has been on for an hour and it’s not ready and every version of the recipe is a  _ lie.”  _

“Oh-Kay…” Reggie prodded him until he laid on the sofa obligingly, then laid down on top of him carefully.

It was a difficult balancing act, what with making sure nothing was digging into Reggie or pressing too hard, but one they’d perfected years ago. The weight helped Alex feel grounded and safe, and Reggie liked the contact and the warmth of his favourite people. 

“Should I ask?” Ray settled in the armchair opposite. 

“Weighted blanket.” Reggie pointed to himself, then pointed to Alex. “Space heater.” 

“Do you have weight? Do you emit heat?”

“Well…” Alex waved a hand back and forth. “Kind of? I think it’s like a mixture of sense memory and both being physically present at the same time.”

“It takes focus,” Reggie agreed. “It took focus to figure it out at first, anyway. But we figured it out.” 

“Hell yeah we did.” 

——

“Is it done? If it’s not done I’m gonna throw it at the wall I swear to god.” 

“Firstly, no throwing raw cake at my walls,” Ray said sternly. “Or you will scrub it off by yourself. Secondly, it is done. ¡Qué alivo!” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have really,” Alex promised. “I probably would’ve just…”

“Cried?” Reggie suggested. 

“Honestly?” Alex looked at him. “Yeah, probably. It’s been like an hour and a half.”

“And now for the icing… yay.” Ray said, looking like he’d rather do literally anything else.

“Crumb coat first!” 

The pair of them turned to Reggie at the same time. “A what?” 

“Honestly,” Reggie shook his head like he was disappointed in them. “It’s where you put a thin layer of buttercream on a cake and then you freeze it so your next layer goes on smoothly.”

“How do you know this?” Alex asked. “You’ve never baked, like, ever?” 

“Flynn has been showing me this Instagram account called How to Cake It,” he informed them proudly. “That’s what they always do.”

They followed his instructions carefully, swearing constantly under their breaths as they attempted to remove the cake from the tin and then add a layer of buttercream, Alex nearly tearing up when a chunk of cake fell off.

“I never want to see a cake ever again, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be able to taste icing sugar for the rest of my life,” he declared once they’d finally loaded it into the freezer to cool for a while.

Ray sagged against the fridge. “We used an entire box of icing sugar to make that. An  _ entire  _ box. Who needs that much icing sugar?” 

“I don’t even have tastebuds!”

“Guys!” Reggie frowned at them both. “This is for Julie. We love Julie, Julie loves marble cake. Get it together.”

“I’ll get it together in a bit,” Ray promised. “When Julie comes in here we tell her this was the most enjoyable bake ever.”

Alex nodded pathetically. “But not now.” 

——

Luke dropped himself down on the couch next to Alex. “So… is it done?” 

“If you ever ask me to make a cake ever again I’m going to kill you with fire,” Alex told him, words muffled by Willie’s. “ _ With fire.” _

“Yeah, whatever dude, go for it.” Luke waved his hand impatiently. “So is it done?” 

“It’s done,” Willie said. “It looks awesome, but Alex might need a minute.”

“A year,” Alex corrected. “I need a year. Maybe another twenty five.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I hope you enjoyed this week’s update, same as last week, I have actually made a marble cake, and basically had this process of the cooking time being fucky and wanting to die by the end of icing it, but it’s on my [ tiktok so you can see roughly what the guys did, and Ray’s weighing scale](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSq7TbkU/) But I made it wintery bc... it’s winter  
> \- the recipe is in the reblog of the post for this chapter on my tumblr so go check that out if you’re interested :)


	3. Macarons part A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had all started with stupid Ray and his stupid good intentions and earnest eyes and oh, why don’t we invite Trevor and Carrie round for tea so you can reconnect in your comfort zone? We can even finally bake some French stuff if that’ll help you calm down? 
> 
> Honestly, it should’ve helped him calm down. It was a great idea, and up until everything went completely tits up, it had been pretty fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay,,, sk this was not supposed to happen  
> There was supposed to be 5 chapters overall, but then I had the exact same experience with macarons as Ray and Alex and decided it would be pretty funny to write what happened instead of skipping it, and it would take up too many words to cram into the Bobby chapter, but few enough that I could finally get some willex in, sk hopefully I will have macarons with y’all tomorrow if my mum helps me with reading instructions properly lol :)  
> Enjoy :)))

Alex had no idea if he was laughing or crying, but if he had to wager a bet, he’d say it was a little bit of both. 

It had all started with stupid Ray and his stupid good intentions and earnest eyes and  _ oh, why don’t we invite Trevor and Carrie round for tea so you can reconnect in your comfort zone? We can even finally bake some French stuff if that’ll help you calm down?  _

Honestly, it should’ve helped him calm down. It was a great idea, and up until everything went completely tits up, it  _ had  _ been pretty fun. 

They’d started slow and methodical, Alex taking the lead properly for the first time, telling Ray what to do. 

“So, mijo,” Ray had said as he cracked an egg for Alex, “how are things going with your ghost friend?” 

That was pretty much where it had started to go wrong. In his panic over how to talk about Willie without a) coming off as completely smitten, which he was, and b) letting slip that Willie was a guy not a girl, he told Ray to sift together all of the sugar with the almond flour and cocoa powder, instead of just the powdered sugar, which wouldn’t have been a massive problem for any other recipe, but the caster sugar was vital for forming the meringue that they needed to get the macarons to form correctly, and it would be impossible to separate the sugar Ray was sifting into the almond flour and cocoa powder. 

His first thought had been that it could work.

Maybe. 

It had either been giving it his best shot or admitting to Ray that he’d messed up something as simple as what ingredient to mix with what because he was panicking because really Reggie was right and he should’ve told Ray straight away because now he was in too deep and if Ray rejected him it would  _ crush  _ him. 

“Uh, can I just take a couple spoonfuls of the sugar off the top of that?” He had asked cautiously, tipping the eggs into the mixing bowl. “I forgot to ask, sorry.”

“Oh, of course.” Ray had smiled, taking off as much as he could and tipping it into the bowl with the eggs. 

It had become apparent pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to work. Unfortunately for Alex, Ray had looked so goddamn hopeful that he’d agreed to keep trying for what must have been half an hour, panicking every five minutes about the overheating hand mixer, and adding spoonfuls of the flour mixture in case the sugar in that helped, and watching with an honestly pathetic amount of sadness and disappointment as the mixture refused to stiffen, or even foam much. 

“We could just bake it anyways, and see what happens?” Alex had ended up suggesting, lifting the mixer doubtfully and watching as the batter refused to hold any kind of shape. “I mean, it can’t go too horribly, right?” 

“Sounds like a plan, mijo.” Ray had agreed, excitedly unpacking the proper piping bag he’d bought just for Alex to do macarons.

Honestly, if Ray had a problem with his dating Willie, it was going to be more painful than the first set of parents who’d kicked him out, now that he’d gotten used to being loved again. Which, he had - and continued to - reasoned with himself, was exactly why he couldn’t tell him. He’d figure something out later -  _ way  _ later, when he’d seen Ray’s reaction to a gay couple on tv, which incredibly was a thing in the future. Once he knew he was safe, that’s when he’d tell him. 

Even piping out the mixture had gone terribly, which wasn’t massively surprising. The batter was far runnier than it was supposed to be, and by the time they’d used it all up making shoddy circles on the special-bought silicon mat - which was miles cooler than the circles he and his mom had drawn on parchment paper - the pair of them were covered in the stuff, and as good as it tasted, Alex had found himself automatically stopping Ray from eating any of it, despite Ray explaining multiple times that most eggs don’t contain salmonella nowadays. 

Despite the failure of the first batch, Alex had resolved that the second batch would turn out better, and once they’d finished cleaning up the scales and bowls from the chocolate set, the pair started measuring out the ingredients for their next attempt whilst the first waited on the side.

The first thing he’d realised was that they didn’t have enough eggs to do even half of the two batches they’d planned, and Ray had already measured out for both, so they could have a proper break after the vanilla set. 

“We’re only gonna be able to do one batch tonight, I think,” he had said slowly, standing up to check the fridge. “We don’t have enough eggs.” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” Ray had smiled at him. “We can just do the mimosa ones tomorrow, yeah? Hopefully get the vanilla ones right today.”

“Okay, should I wrap the extra stuff up so it keeps?” 

“That would be great, burbujito.” 

Pretty quickly after he’d started wrapping the bowls with the almond flour and icing sugar in aluminium foil, he’d noticed the bowl of icing sugar and almond flour left on the side, and turned back to look at the failed set of macarons on the side. “Ray… um. What. What did we put in the batter?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Uh, it’s just. Erm. Well, the almond flour and icing sugar that I set aside for the chocolate batter is there?” He had shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. “Not that I’m blaming you or anything, it’s just. I just. Um.” His hands had fluttered next to his thighs as his breathing got a little quicker. “I’m just not really sure what’s… I’m just not really sure what’s in that batter? If the stuff - the stuff we were gonna put in there is out here?” 

“Hey, mijo, relax,” Ray had soothed gently. “It’s okay. I’m not mad, we can just use this for the next batch and put the unmixed stuff back in the box, okay?” 

“Yeah.” Alex had laughed a little breathlessly. “I know. I’m not. I just. This was supposed to calm me down from worrying about Bobby and this, this other thing that I can’t tell you yet bu-but I’m so worried about telling you when I can tell you and  _ Bobby,  _ god I haven’t seen him in twenty six years and I miss him - I miss him so much, but also he stole so much from us - from Luke especially - but I want to hear from him why he did it, but also I don’t want to be put in a position where I can forgive him but the boys can’t, or where  _ I  _ can’t forgive him and he wants me to, and - and now I’m even more stressed because it’s gone wrong and I’m not used to not being good at things esp-esp-especially not baking-”

“Alex,” Ray had said calmly, sitting in front of him, but not too close, the way Alex always wished people would do when they tried to talk to him when the  _ uncomfortablebadnotright _ rising up his throat. “Alex, come on niño, I need you to breathe for me, okay?”

“I-I know, I’m okay, it’s just- I just. I wanted everything to go well and I wanted to… I wanted to do something I remember being happy doing and I just can’t get it right and I was just stressed because, because…” he’d trailed off, clenching and unclenching his fist.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about it, we can try it again tomorrow, okay? And if it doesn’t work tomorrow, we can try again another day, until we get it right, until you’re not stressed about your friend, or whatever it is you want to tell me. ¿Vale?”

Ray had made no move to come closer, just changed the subject once Alex had gotten his breathing under control and talked about Julie and Carlos and Reggie and Luke, about how Reggie and Luke had been opening up to him and about how well Julie was doing now that she was playing music again, about how much Carlos was flourishing with a couple older brother figures for him to tease without the weight of his mom hanging over every interaction. 

Eventually, Alex had calmed enough for Ray to grip his shoulder without him flinching. “I don’t think we should carry on, maybe we should start with the vanilla tomorrow?” 

Alex had given him a deadpan stare. “Do you think I have the emotional stability to carry on with this?” 

When Ray’d choked on a laugh, he’d waved a hand dramatically, if only to make himself smile. “Because I fucking don’t, I will cry if anything else goes wrong.”

“You are a little bit of a disaster today,” Ray had teased, “maybe my kitchen would be safer if you went and spent the afternoon with your ghost friend, hmm?” 

Alex had blushed furiously. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you clean up?” 

“I think you would trip and set something on fire with the state you’re in. Go, have fun.” 

“I’m not even solid?” He’d replied, even as he threw himself forward to hug Ray. 

Ray had grunted, but wrapped his arms around him immediately anyways. “You okay, conejito?” 

Alex had hummed, burying his face in Ray’s shoulder. Everything was gonna be fine. The dinner with Bobby-Trevor would go great, and he’d get his best friend back, and Bobby would coach him through modern attitudes to… people like him, and he’d concoct some sort of plan to gauge Ray’s reaction to a gay couple and then if it went well he’d mention Willie and most importantly, he would make macarons that worked tomorrow, and the world would be right again - he’d be a talented baker of French lineage and he’d remember his mom as she’d been before everything else. 

——

For a moment after he finished recounting the tale to Willie, in some weird place between laughing and crying where he was sure his shoulders were shaking with laughter but thought that maybe the tears in his eyes had come a little too quickly, he’d been worried that maybe Willie would think he was weird and high strung and tense and stupid and every other fucking thing people had thrown at him as a nervous little kid, stressing about everything. 

But then, after a moment of stunned silence, Willie had half collapsed against Alex’s side in a fit of laughter, occasionally managing to get a word or two out before dissolving back into a faint and vaguely concerning wheezing, tears tracing down his cheeks and shoulders shaking so hard Alex was pretty sure he’d bruise if he had blood. 

“S-so...so, you’re telling me..” Willie managed, putting so little effort into sitting up straight that he eventually ended up laid with his head in Alex’s lap, hair splayed out and eyes shining in the street light like some sort of Disney Princess. “You mean to tell me that you fucked up macarons - something you’ve baked like a hundred million times - because you got distracted about how to tell your new dad about me?” 

Alex avoided eye contact, feeling his cheeks heat. He took a long sip from the bottle of vodka orange juice he’d liberated from the fridge of whatever hotel they’d traipsed through in their effort to find some crisps. “Firstly, buddy, he’s not my new dad, he’s in the running to be my new dad. He can’t be my new dad until he’s seen me do something unbelievably stupid just because Bobby told me it would be funny, and since Bobby probably hates us for dying and haunting him and whatnot, that likely will never happen.” 

“Babe,” Willie reached an arm up to awkwardly pat his cheek, “he’s your new dad, and Bobby is gonna cry and say he’s sorry and beg for your forgiveness and then he’s gonna tell you it would be funny if you got shitfaced on prison wine and you can officially admit to Ray that you’ve been one slip of the tongue away from calling you dad ever since he told you your gingerbread was good.” 

“Fuck you and your optimism,” he told Willie primly, then immediately began looping strands of the other boy’s hair around his fingers. “I have an idea, and I need you to be open to my suggestion, because I’m your wonderful boyfriend and you love me.” 

Willie dramatically heaved a sigh. “Go on?” 

“Can we find some butterfly clips? I wanna braid your hair like I did with my little sister’s and I think you’d look very beautiful with butterfly clips.” Alex let his eyes widen slightly and his lower lip stick out. Julie had been teaching him and Reggie how to manipulate Luke - honestly incredibly easy, the dude was a total sucker for a cute face - and he’d been informed by a slightly disgruntled Carlos that it was cruel and he should only use it in times of extreme emergency. 

He was pretty sure the opportunity to mess with Willie’s hair for ages counted as an extreme emergency. 

Willie hummed and sat up, staying close to Alex. “Fine, but only ‘cause you’re cute.” 

Even though he’d been kind of expecting some kind of comment like that, it still made him splutter and blush in embarrassment. “Oh my god,” he complained without heat. “You’re so mean to me.” 

“I’m about to let you make me look like it’s still the mid nineties, man.” Willie turned his head so he was looking at him, a hair’s breadth away. 

“It was ‘95 like three months ago for me,” Alex replied absently, gaze flickering between Willie’s eyes and lips. “So..”

Before he could even get past the little blue screen moment he had every time Willie kissed him, Willie had pulled back, eyebrows shot up. 

“Uh, not to judge your life choices, bro, you know I support you.. but like. Is that vodka orange juice? It’s five pm,” he asked slowly, reaching out to take the bottle.

“Firstly, I’m dead and time is an illusion, secondly, yes it is, I feel like I deserve it, thirdly, I need it because I’m still processing not knowing what the  _ fuck  _ ended up in that macaron mix… so…” 

“Huh,” Willie nodded after a second. “Honestly, I’ll let you have that as long as you share.” 

“After we find some butterfly clips,” Alex promised. “And maybe some of those fun light up extensions?” 

“I draw the line at light up extensions,” Willie told him, reeling him back in. “Although we could get some chalk hair dye. You’d look pretty with pink hair.” 

Before Alex could even begin to process that, Willie’s lips were against his, and he abandoned all hopes of higher thought process. 

——

“Okay, but, picture this: you, me, Sicily.” Willie was slumped against Alex’s legs, only holding himself up enough to allow Alex access to his hair, which he was methodically plaiting and adding butterfly clips to, unwinding a plait and redoing it whenever a loud noise from the city below them made him jump. 

“What would we even do in Sicily?” Alex asked, getting a bead out of the shitty plastic packet they’d grabbed with the butterfly clips and chalk dyes and slipping it up one of the plaits to tie in.

“Uh, what  _ wouldn’t  _ we do in Sicily, more like?” Willie turned back to grin at him, and for the millionth time that night, Alex was struck by how goddamn beautiful he was, features lit up by the soft glow of the city below and the candles they’d brought with them, dark eyes glittering. “We could go swimming and hiking and climbing and we could explore ruins - we haven’t screamed in ruins yet, that could be cool - and we would be halfway around the world from your very lovely family who have no concept of personal space or timing. And we could just sit like this on the roof of some crumbling villa and watch the sun go down over the ocean.” 

Alex cleared his throat and blinked. “Oh, um. That sounds amazing.  _ Really  _ awesome. Maybe we could go when Julie and her family go visit her extended family, we’ll have no gigs booked, Reg and Luke will probably stalk them. Just us.” 

Willie beamed and relaxed back against him so Alex could continue messing with his hair. “Sounds like a date, hotdog.” 

“What about France?” He asked, adding a couple streaks of blue to Willie’s hair. “You ever been to France?” 

“I think Caleb did a show near the Place Charles de Gaulle on the Champs-Élysées which I danced in,” Willie said slowly, squeezing Alex’s ankle. “Other than that, I don’t think so.”

“We gotta go to France, then. My mom’s family was from there,” his braiding slowed down and Willie shuffled closer, grabbing his hand. “Somewhere just outside of Biarritz. We used to visit every Summer, before I came out and I moved - before I was kicked out. The surfing there is awesome. Can you surf? You seem like you’d be able to surf, with how much you skate.” 

Willie pressed a kiss against his jaw. “Yeah, I can surf. Tell me about it there?” 

Alex played with Willie’s fingers. “Um, so there’s a whole bunch of beaches. The main one is La Grande Plage, but my favourites are Plage du Port Vieux and Plage de la Milday. Biarritz is on the east coast, so you get the most gorgeous sunrises, and me and my little sister used to go surfing right at dawn and get these cool Polaroid pictures of us on our boards and the whole ocean is just golden behind us.”

“That sounds amazing, dude.” Willie swapped places with Alex so he was leant against Willie’s chest, the other boy grabbing the various pink dyes they’d managed to find. “I’d love to go with you someday.” 

“Thanks, Willie.” Alex tilted his head back to give Willie easy access to the front of his hair. “You got anywhere special like that?” 

Willie hummed. “There’s this place in Mendocino county, where my grandparents lived. It’s called the Lost Coast. My uncle used to take me hiking along this awesome route, and it’s in the King’s Range National Park, so the wildlife is preserved and it’s pretty quiet, and I used to tell him everything.” 

“He sounds pretty cool,” Alex murmured, eyes fluttering shut as Willie combed through his hair with the applicator. 

“Yeah, he was.”

“It sucks, sometimes,” Alex said suddenly. “Like… there are so many things I’ve gained, by dying,  _ so  _ many things, and I really don’t regret anything, but I miss Bobby and my little sister - Ava - so fucking much sometimes and I hate that I had to leave them behind in a way that’s so permanent just to gain what I have now.” 

“I know what you mean, hotdog.” Willie tugged his head back until he could kiss Alex’s forehead. “It’s like, now we’ve got the ability to communicate with lifers, do I go and undo all the grieving my family went through when I died just so  _ I  _ can feel a bit better?” 

“Exactly! Like… the only reason I’m telling Bobby is so he can move on too. If he misses us as much as we miss him, then he gets us back. If he’s guilty about stealing our music, maybe we can help alleviate that. But Ava? Mrs Fowel who used to look after me every Thursday and Friday night when my parents did church stuff we weren’t old enough for? The people who have nothing to gain but everything to lose if I reach out, but who I miss all the time.” He thudded his head back against Willie’s shoulder. “Y’know?” 

“Yeah, baby. I know.” Willie wrapped an arm around him. “I know.” 

——

Alex was pretty sure Ray wasn’t expecting him to return from his afternoon with his “ghost-friend” with pink hair, a guy’s hoodie he’d never seen before, and a pocket full of Polaroids, for whenever he was ready to tell Ray about Willie, to show him photos of them laughing deliriously as Alex re-enacted his horror at figuring out the macaron mix horror, well past halfway into the vodka orange juice, of Alex smiling up at Willie like he’d pinned each star into place, of Willie staring at the city, the universe shining in his eyes, hair braided and full of butterfly clips and blue streaks, and the last one, that Alex had only just managed to get as Willie leaned up to kiss him. He wasn’t ready yet, he needed more time, some tests, to gauge for certain how Ray would react. But, when he was ready, he had photos and stories to share. 

“So,” Alex dropped down next to Reggie once he’d made it to the garage after stopping in to check Ray didn’t need help with the kitchen, “it turns out ghosts  _ can  _ get drunk, but we have a very quick metabolism. Wears off quickly.”

“Hi, Alex. How are you, Alex? Did your date go nice, Alex?” Reggie complained, worming his way under Alex’s arm anyway. “I like the pink. Suits you.”

“Hi, Reggie, I’m good, thanks Reggie, my date went excellently. And it was Willie’s choice.” Alex blushed and touched his fingers to the pink streak in his line of vision. “How was video games with Carlos?” 

Alex relaxed as Reggie launched into a spiel about the latest video game they’d been trying, and about how Flynn had dropped by to get Julie’s help with asking Carrie out and then ended up sticking around to utterly flounce the pair of them with zero mercy. He waved at Luke when he walked in and rested his cheek against the top of Reggie’s head. 

“Guys,” he interrupted Reggie, “Bobby’s coming for dinner tomorrow night. So we can talk to him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Macarons are evil btw even if they are very nice
> 
> Please don’t @ me about the time, yes it’s 3am yes I have a class in 6 hours yes I look like I’ve been punched in both eyes but my sleep meds aren’t working so we move


	4. Macarons part B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s good to know, eh?” Ray bumped his hip against Alex’s. “So, how are we feeling about Trevor and Carrie visiting for dinner?” 
> 
> Alex laughed awkwardly. “Terrible, to be perfectly honest, but fuck it, who cares, right? Anyways, lift the bowl upside down to make sure it’s definitely done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so I decided to be nice to Alex and Ray and not force them to suffer the additional round and a half of very shitty macarons and half a batch of good but not perfect macarons that I suffered through, because I wanted to focus on Bobby.. so... have some Bobby?  
> Enjoy :)

They were deciding to take it as a good omen that round two of the macarons were shaping up to be a success. 

The second they started whisking the eggs and a foam formed, Ray’s jaw dropped in indignation and Alex essentially sagged against the counter in relief.

“That looks nothing like what our eggs looked like yesterday!” Ray kept looking between the eggs and Alex, eyes wide. “Is that what the recipe meant by foam? Not the little bubbles?” 

Alex nodded, hand clutching his chest. “Yup. We did it!” 

“Oh, gracias a Dios,” Ray breathed as the eggs took on the traditional white foam ones of meringues. “When do we add the sugar?” 

“Not until it forms soft peaks - I’ll tell you when.” 

“And this is what it was supposed to look like yesterday?” Ray confirmed, turning off the mixer to test the peaks. “How did we go so wrong?” 

Alex shrugged and grabbed the sugar. “Honestly, I’m not sure. It means it wasn’t our fault, though. Even from the beginning the eggs weren’t foaming properly, before we added anything.” 

“That’s good to know, eh?” Ray bumped his hip against Alex’s. “So, how are we feeling about Trevor and Carrie visiting for dinner?” 

Alex laughed awkwardly. “Terrible, to be perfectly honest, but fuck it, who cares, right? Anyways, lift the bowl upside down to make sure it’s definitely done.”

“Alex, mijo, I have never known you “not care” about anything.” Ray tilted the bowl to confirm, trusting Alex without hesitation. “Talk to me.” 

“It’s just. I just. I want everything to go so perfectly,” he explained, sieving the almond flour and icing sugar into the egg. “Carrie and Julie are only just barely friends again, and Bobby has lived twenty five  _ years  _ without us. We’ve only lived a couple months without him.” He looked up at Ray, annoyed but not surprised at the familiar sting of tears. “I’m just… What if I need him more than he needs me?” 

“Oh, Alex.” Ray set the sieve down immediately and offered his arms, hugging Alex tightly when he moved into them. “Alex, I’ve known Trevor as long as I knew my Rose, and he never talked about any other friends, he just always referenced his bandmates from before he knew her. He never stopped missing you, burbujito.” 

“Really?” Alex’s voice was barely audible, a mix of strangled around the lump in his throat and muffled in Ray’s sweater. “You think so?” 

“I know so, niño.” Ray kissed his forehead gently. “Now, c’mon, show me how this works.”

Alex sniffled and nodded, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of Willie’s hoodie. He’d probably regret baking in it - it was already covered in icing sugar, and by the time they finished fucking about with food dye and piping bags and the inevitable disaster that would follow it would undoubtedly be even worse - but now it was a little too big on the arms and a little too short and it smelt like Willie in a way that should be impossible given that Willie didn’t technically exist, but it was currently the only thing between him and a total breakdown, so he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty just yet. “Okay, so. Um, we need to fold in the sugar and flour we’ve just added, with the silicone spatula.” 

“Are you gonna laugh at me if I say I don’t know how to fold properly?” Ray asked, smiling far too brightly to really be concerned about Alex laughing at him.

“A little bit.” Alex held his fingers an inch apart, laughing wetly. “But it’s okay, ‘cause I know how to do it, let me show you.”

He talked Ray through folding the mixture, and picked out the pink and blue to mix in. 

“These are gonna look like toothpaste,” he said, watching the streaks come through. 

“Oh, yeah. But, it’ll be cool,” Ray agreed, checking for any remnants of the dry ingredients.

“Right,” Alex started, grabbing a glass and the piping bag. “This is my least favourite part, because it’s gonna go everywhere, and we just kind of have to accept that the kitchen is fucked.”

“Lovely.” 

Alex held open the piping bag as Ray scooped in the mixture. “What if Carrie doesn’t like me?” He asked as Ray finished. “I mean, I danced with her, and she walked through me, so I feel like there’s more of a connection than there really is, so what if she hates me? Bobby  _ loves  _ her, if she doesn’t like me then he’ll probably never come back.” 

“Carrie just wants someone to pay attention to her and tell her she’s special, that isn’t a reporter or a fan or someone who wants something from her dad. Tell her you love her music, and she’ll glom onto you immediately,” Ray promised, making a face as batter dripping all over his hands.

Alex showed him how to pipe out the shells onto the silicone sheet with a hell of a lot more precision than they’d had the day before. “I guess… oh, the swirls are coming through!”

“That looks awesome, mijo. Good job.” Ray squeezed his shoulder, then took his place to try his hand at piping them. He was almost as clean and precise with his circles as Alex had been, and pretty soon they’d worked through all of the mixture. “So, we let this rest for an hour, bake it, let that cool, and then do the mimosa batch?” He confirmed once he’d done.

Alex shook his head. “Actually, I grabbed another silicon mat from a department store downtown. I left cash on the counter, so it wasn’t technically stealing,” he placated immediately when Ray raised his eyebrows. “So, I thought maybe we could watch a film with everyone else while they cooked instead of preparing another batch then?” 

“Sounds great,” Ray agreed, slamming the tray with the piped shells against the table after checking the instructions. “You wanna clean out the bowls while I find somewhere to shove these?” 

——

Alex knew everyone else knew why he’d chosen the film he’d chosen.

Honestly, considering how Ray had faded from using she/her pronouns to they/them pronouns whenever they discussed Alex’s ghost friend,  _ Ray  _ probably knew why he’d chosen the film that he had. 

Love, Simon was turning out to be pretty good, but Alex was only half paying attention to what was on screen. Even though Bobby and Carrie would be arriving in three hours, even though there were macarons that might not even work drying on the side in the kitchen, even though this was an actual real life film about a  _ gay couple _ , all he could do was watch it out of the corner of his eye and focus the rest of his attention on Ray.

Reggie was laid half on top of him, and Luke was bearing the combined weight of the two of them, both of them barely watching the film either, too busy making sure he was okay. Only Julie was really paying attention, trusting her father to pass their test, and trusting Reggie and Luke to look after Alex.

By the time the film ended, Alex was thumbing the Polaroids in his pocket, chest fit to burst, other hand gripping Luke’s. He wouldn’t tell Ray today, not with so much else riding on the evening, not before he could talk to Willie, not before he’d told  _ Bobby.  _ God, Bobby - he could tell Bobby he had a boyfriend, after years of teasing that even with his pretty face and big arms, he was too busy looking at his feet and drowning himself in hoodies to notice the boys staring after him, he could  _ finally  _ tell Bobby he’d noticed one. 

With everything beginning to look up, he decided to test the skin of the macarons, even though Reggie had tested them ten minutes ago and come back in licking his finger tips. 

“Wish me luck, guys, I’ve hinged my entire emotional well-being on the success of these fucking macarons.” He threw up the peace sign he’d picked up from Flynn after about five seconds of meeting her as he left the room to a round of cheers.

“They’re done!” He yelled as he ran back in moments later, heart pounding with the rush of relief coursing through him. “Thank fuck!” 

——

Five minutes before Bobby and Carrie were due to show up, Alex was pretty sure he was going to explode. Or throw up. Or escape to Sicily and hope Willie figured out where he was before he got lonely. 

“But. I’m.” He heaved a sigh and turned pleading eyes on Ray. “Are you  _ sure  _ it’s gonna be okay?”

“I’m sure, burbujito.” Ray hugged him gently. “Now go make sure your brothers aren’t ruining my kitchen, okay?” 

“Isn’t it basically our kitchen at this point?”

“Hmm,” Ray pinched his side. “I don’t seem to remember seeing your share of the bills, so I don’t think so.”

Alex yelped and stumbled back. “Okay, okay. I’ll go make sure Luke and Reg aren’t making anything explode.”

“And change your sweater,” Ray added. “I’m sure you like the “vibe” of a sweater that doesn’t fit right and is covered in flour, but you’re about to see your best friend for the first time in twenty five years, and meet his daughter, who spends more in a week than I earn in a year.” 

“Oh,  _ fuck.” _ Alex looked down and then back up at Ray. “I’m gonna steal something because all my clothes are from crashing in someone else’s garage for a year, so…” he pointed his thumb up the stairs, then poofed out.

It was honestly sad how much of Ray’s closet Alex liked. He grabbed a cream sweater without rifling through too much and hoped like hell he wouldn’t get anything on it in the kitchen.

When he poofed in, he was honestly pretty impressed by how little Reggie and Luke had managed to destroy. Sure, the ganache Alex had made for the failed chocolate macarons was entirely gone and they each had smears of it over their faces, but within a minute of Alex threatening to spray them both down with the hose outside they looked pretty damn close to presentable. 

“Boys!” Ray called. “You’re gonna have to be real quick with figuring out your explanation, okay? Trevor’s car just pulled up outside.”

And once again, Alex was contemplating his future as a benevolent spirit haunting ruins in Sicily, or maybe Corsica, and whether or not Willie would join him full time or if they’d need to take city breaks so he could skate for a while. 

Reggie snapped his fingers in front of Alex’s face. “Hey, man. C’mon. So we’re gonna tell him exactly what happened, and hope it doesn’t turn out that he murdered us, right?” 

Alex and Luke shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.” 

Julie cleared her throat. “If anyone cries into the meatballs Tía made, I will kill all of you, again, so no emotions over the dinner table please.” 

Luke immediately propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands, eyes wide. “Aw, baby, we’re gonna talk to our other best friend for the first time in two and a half  _ decades.  _ Aren’t you happy for us?” 

Julie blushed immediately, but flicked his forehead. “Of course I am, you dope, I’m just more happy to have meatballs.” 

Reggie made a considering sound. “That sounds fair to me.”

The other two boys shrugged and nodded, all four of them perking up as the doorbell rang. 

“Are you  _ sure  _ I can’t go to Sicily?” 

——

Bobby was stood three feet away from Alex. 

_ Bobby _ was stood  _ three feet  _ away from Alex, and couldn’t see him yet. 

They’d decided that since he and Alex had been, in some ways, the closest when they’d been alive, that Alex would talk to him first.

That wasn’t true, exactly, because the four of them had been a weird mish mash of different friendships that came together to form Sunset Curve, which was an indescribable entity that had become a mystery to Alex the second they’d died, but Alex had lived in Bobby’s garage for eight months before Reggie had joined them, and Luke hadn’t run away for two months after that, and so they wound up spending more time talking about anything and everything at 3am than the others, which was as good an indicator as any.

How was he even supposed to talk to Bobby? Was it fair to ramble and rave about everything the way he would’ve two months ago when Bobby had grieved and suffered for twenty five  _ years?  _

Ray made eye contact with him from the doorway, and after a pause he made himself visible. 

“Hi, Bobby.”

——

Once they’d skipped past Bobby screaming, it was less difficult than Alex had led the others to believe it might be to convince him. He hadn’t really been lying, because he hadn’t been super sure that Bobby would remember the stupid code they’d come up with way back in ‘94 one night when neither of the other two were staying over in the garage, and Bobby had brought in beers and suddenly the sun had been rising and Alex had been filled with anxiety at the thought that time might keep slipping away from him. It had been ridiculous, but Bobby was the best person in his whole world, so they’d agreed that if they ever ended up in a situation where there was some sort of communication barrier and the fabric of reality was wearing thin, they’d have a code to help them find each other. 

“I can’t believe you remembered to write the code on my bathroom mirror,” Bobby said once he’d finally caught his breath, sagged into a chair. 

Alex sat opposite him. “Hey, man. It’s only been a year for me.  _ You’re  _ the one who remembered it after twenty six years.” 

Bobby blanched. “Jesus, dude. God. My therapist would be having a field day if I told her about this.” At Alex’s quirked eyebrows he continued: “ The ghost of my best friend appeared in the kitchen of my daughter’s ex best friend who is also the daughter of the only friend I had since said best friend and our other two best friends died, except I already knew they were back because of a code we thought of when we were sixteen and drunk at five am that somehow both of us remembered, and also because my daughter was spite watching a video of them and her aforementioned ex best friend who have a killer band together.” 

Alex sank back into the chair. “Oh, shit. Yeah. I mean, I’m sure you’re paying her good enough money, what with your vanity helicopter and your mansion.” 

“I hope you know that every time I got in that helicopter lately I could feel the spirit of you judging me for it.” 

“That could be ‘cause we mooned you.” Alex shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat. “But anyways,” he continued over Bobby’s indignant squawking, “Ray told me to reach out because, like, we missed you and whatever, and I have a couple issues and he thought you might be good for me to talk to, etcetera etcetera.” 

Bobby snorted. “You’ve not got any better at actually articulating your emotions, have you?” 

Alex pulled a face. “I’m plenty good at crying and shaking in corners, thank you very much. I’m pretty sure that gets my point across most of the time.” 

Bobby opened his mouth to respond, but shut it after a moment. “I can’t argue with that, to be honest.” 

“Anyways, so… you can explain the whole stealing Luke’s music to him over dinner because his girlfriend scares all of us and can give you the judge-y face of death should it be required, but-”

“Luke’s  _ girlfriend?”  _ Bobby echoed, holding a hand up to stop him. “Wait.” His face drained of colour. “Don’t tell me Luke is dating Julie. Please, Alex, I will literally donate every cents I have to charity if you tell me that Luke isn’t dating Julie.” 

Alex grinned. “Luke’s dating Julie.”

Bobby groaned and thudded his forehead on the table. After a moment he sat back up. “That’s my best friend and my  _ daughter’s  _ best friend. Do you know how weird that is? That’s…” they shuddered in unison. 

“Oh. Ew. That’s disgusting. Let’s not talk about that?” Alex proposed, pulling the Polaroids out of the pocket he’d moved them to. “So. I have news. And I wanna tell Ray. Except…”

“You adopted him as your dad and now you’re terrified of his opinion?” Bobby suggested, smiling innocently. “Don’t ask me how I know, apparently the whole telepathy thing hadn’t gone away.” 

“Huh.” Alex paused to consider that, then shrugged. “Does that mean your Reggie’s-about-to-get-hurt senses still work?” 

Bobby’s eyebrows shot up. “That would explain the constant anxiety I’ve had since you guys died - Reggie’s dead, so he’s...constantly not doing good, I guess?” 

Alex’s smile dimmed. “Yeah, he’s been having some trouble with flares. They’re a lot more common now than before.” 

“Tell me about your news,” Bobby said gently. “We can talk about Reg when he’s here.” 

“Right.” He breathed in shakily and nodded. “I… so… there’s this guy. He’s a ghost,” he added quickly before Bobby could interrupt. “He’s really cute - I’ve got pictures. And Ray had asked a couple times when I’m gonna bring my “ghost-friend” round for tea or how they’re doing, but I have no idea how to tell him I’m gay. I mean. My parents…” 

Bobby reached out across the table, jaw slacking slightly when their hands connected. “‘Lex, do you trust him around Reg and Luke?” 

“What? Yeah of course I do.” Alex blinked, confused by the change of topic. 

“Okay, so you trust this man around the two people you are most protective of in the world, who have notoriously shitty relationships with their parents. Emily may have liked us as people well enough, but she didn’t even think to check my garage when she was looking for Luke, he’s always wished he had someone who wanted to know him once he stopped being a squishy little kid, and Reg… Reg’s parents yell so much and slammed so many doors that the poor kid developed a condition common in people who survive trauma like sexual assault or physical abuse. You really telling me you trust him with Reg and Luke but not this?” 

“I’ve been wrong about parents before, Bobby,” Alex whispered. “I trusted mine.” 

“You didn’t trust them with us, though, did you?” Bobby smiled wearily. “Not really. My parents were gone half the time, you could’ve offered up your surburban middle class family home any weekend you chose and let us have the functional family feeling for a while, but you didn’t. You’ll probably come out with some random shit like being too selfish to share, but we both know you’d entrust your heart a million times before you’d entrust Reggie and Luke. You already know you’re safe.” 

Alex blinked the tears out of his eyes and nodded. “Thanks, man. I really missed you. And your crazy emotional intelligence.” 

Bobby laughed wetly and stood up, wiping under his eyes. “C’mere, ‘Lex. I missed you too, buddy.” 

Before he could hesitate, Alex was practically throwing himself into Bobby’s arms. 

“One day, you’re gonna realise that I’m just spouting the shit my therapist tells me,” Bobby told him. “Now, tell me about this boyfriend of yours.” 

“His name is Willie,” Alex pulled back after a moment. “He skateboards and dances, and he used to work for this guy who tried to kill us, but he helped us. He makes me feel calm.” 

“He sounds like a really cool guy.” Bobby ruffled his hair. “How’d you meet?” 

Alex laughed, handing Bobby the pictures. “I was trying to stave off a panic attack and he attempted to run me over.”

Bobby choked on a laugh. “You’re such a fucking disaster, kid. He looks at you like you painted the sky, though, so clearly your choices aren’t  _ too  _ terrible,” he teased as he flipped through.

Alex felt his cheeks burn. “Oh my god, you’re the worst!” 

Before Bobby could retaliate, Reggie poked his head through the door. “Uh, not to interrupt, but… can Luke and I say hi?” 

Bobby’s eyes went misty. “‘Course, Reg.” 

Moments later, the four of them were finally reunited, even if Bobby looked like a middle aged man returning from a hipster work retreat and the rest of them looked… well, like teenagers. 

Luke was clearly a little reluctant, but even he moved forward to hug Bobby without complaint. 

“I’m still mad at you for stealing my music,” he said eventually, “but, you’re still Bobby, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Thank you, Luke. I… I made some bad choices, ended up signing contracts with the wrong people.” Bobby pulled back from them a little. “I don’t… I don’t have the same songwriting skills as you do, because I’ve never  _ felt  _ things as strongly as you do. I’ve never met anybody else who does. The only thing that I ever wrote songs about was how I felt after… y’know. And… I wasn’t - I couldn’t share those. Not with the world, not right away, so I suddenly had these contracts to fulfil and the songs I had were a grieving process, not something to be shared with the world. So… I thought. I used a couple of yours to fill the gaps between what I could pull off and what I didn’t have. As soon as I could afford it I donated double how much I’d made off them to homeless shelters, domestic violence charities, LGBTQIA+ charities… but. It’s been a long time since I’ve needed one of your songs. After Carrie was born… I have my muse now.” 

Luke was silent for a long time before he wrapped Bobby back up in a hug. “Do my parents know? That I wrote that stuff?” 

“You’re not officially credited,” Bobby admitted, “there was this whole court case around your deaths because it obviously wasn’t food poisoning, so I didn’t want to bring attention to your folks who hadn’t been allowed to grieve you properly. But... they know.” 

“Woah,” Reggie scrubbed a hand across his face. “What do you mean we obviously didn’t die from food poisoning?” 

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Uh… you don’t die that quickly from food poisoning? Or that amount of battery acid.” 

“Oh, shit,” the three of them whispered at the same time. 

——

Ray nudged Reggie. “You okay, mijo? You’ve not touched your meatballs.”

Reggie pushed his fork around the plate. “I don’t know, Ray. I mean, I thought I was just a comedic ghost who died a comedic death, but now it turns out we were  _ murdered _ . I can’t be a sweet and funny family ghost if I was murdered, murders belong in the tragedy genre and I don’t want to be a tragedy.”

Carrie, apparently, hit breaking point. “Isn’t it just funnier that you were murdered via hotdog? Like someone decided to put the time and energy into poisoning four idiots who probably could’ve been killed by a bowl of “free candy” that was coated fully in arsenic, and decided to go with hot dogs? And then they couldn’t even get all four of you?”

“Hey!” All four of them immediately turned to her, offended. 

“Oh my god,” Julie and Carrie said at the same time, then shot each other horrified looks. 

“Is the stupid contagious?” Carrie asked. “I’m seriously concerned about the well-being of my IQ here.” 

“I mean, my grades haven’t dropped since I met them?” Julie offered, patting Luke’s hand consolingly. “Although I do have enough weird thoughts to run a Twitter account at this point.” 

“Wouldn’t you have inherited the stupid?” Reggie asked. “Or at least caught it during the sixteen years you’ve been living with Bobby?” 

Carlos raised his hand, and cleared his throat dramatically once everyone had stopped talking. “I just wanna know, did they catch the guy or can I send it to Buzzfeed Unsolved and heavily imply that I think your ghosts are living in our garage?” 

Bobby shrugged. “Five other people at the street dog place that night died, so it would be a little weird to hone in on three of ‘em, but they never found who did it, so go for it, little man.” 

Carlos grinned evilly. “ _ Nice.”  _

“Or,” Ray interjected, giving Bobby a mildly concerned glance, “you could try  _ not  _ drawing attention to the ghost band living in our garage?” 

“Exactly,” Julie agreed. “We get enough attention as a hologram band.” 

Reggie pulled a face. “But being a ghost band has so much potential! Someone’s gonna figure it out eventually, so what’s the big deal with being a bit spicy about it?”

Julie visibly shuddered. “Stop picking up words you’ve heard Flynn say without learning how it works colloquially as well as grammatically. Please. I am  _ begging _ you.”

“And,” Carrie added, “you should go to Buzzfeed Unsolved about their murder  _ after  _ you’ve revealed to the world that you’re ghosts, which you’d probably have to do.”

“Why does it even make a difference?” Luke and Alex asked at the same time, high-giving absently. 

“Because if you initially go through Buzzfeed Unsolved, it’s not immediately travelling through the circles you want it to, but the shock value will have decreased for when you do the actual reveal, whereas if you let the Unsolved team do, like, merch, interviews with you ghosts, for a percentage of the profits, you’ve capitalised as much as possible,” Carrie explained to Carlos, who looked like he was seriously considering her proposal. 

“Bobby, we love you, man-” Luke said. 

“But we are  _ terrified-”  _ Reggie continued.

“Of your daughter,” Alex finished. 

Ray drained the last of his beer and set it down on the table, heavy enough to draw attention, but without startling either Reggie or Alex. “Can someone just tell me how you do that? Please, for the love of god, I’m so confused.” 

“We don’t know,” All four of them replied, shrugging.

“We’ve been able to do it since that one time we were all helping my dad fix our aerial and we got lightly electrocuted,” Bobby added. 

“Since the time you got  _ electrocuted?”  _ Ray echoed, looking horrified. 

“Lightly!” Reggie and Luke corrected. 

“That doesn’t make it better!” Julie said. 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Alex mimicked teasingly. 

Carlos turned to Ray, mouth open to ask him something, but Ray shut him down before he could even start talking. “No, mijo, you’re not getting yourself and someone else electrocuted just to see if you gain telepathy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> I’m way too tired to write proper notes but feel free to ask me anything in the comments/on tumblr, whether it’s fandom related or just random curiosity lol :)
> 
> There’s no tiktok because the video deleted itself lol sorry :(


	5. Crème Brûlées

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So… Alex,” Luke said, eyes already pleading as he crawled across Willie to sit cross legged in Alex’s lap, because he’d apparently never seen a human person sit before. “Y’know how you love me?” 
> 
> Alex raised an eyebrow, pushing Luke’s face away. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information, man, ‘cause I kinda hate you at the minute. For multiple reasons, actually, that include but are not limited to you literally climbing across my boyfriend, and you tripping Reggie up this morning meaning he caught his ribs on the doorframe.” 
> 
> “Lexi!” Luke complained, sticking his lower lip out. “I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to get to the table first because Ray got pizza.” 
> 
> Willie laughed and bumped his shoulder against Alex’s. “That is a pretty sound excuse, babe.” 
> 
> “He hurt Reg!” Alex protested. “Reggie! And besides, he’s just here to ask me to make him a crème brûlée, because I’m planning on coming out to Ray today and Luke thinks that-”
> 
> “-everything should be celebrated with crème brûlée.” Luke joined in for the last bit, and patted Alex’s cheek. “And Alex loves using a blowtorch, and he loves me, so he’s going to say yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup kiddos!   
> This is late bc I got drunk and decorated my living room instead of writing after I baked last night, but the [ tiktok is up ](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSs2gdV9/) of the baking process and there is one just of blowtorching the sugar bc it’s so satisfying   
> Here we have Alex finally coming out to ray, and Victoria meeting the gang   
> I hope y’all enjoy :))

“So… Alex,” Luke said, eyes already pleading as he crawled across Willie to sit cross legged in Alex’s lap, because he’d apparently never seen a human person sit before. “Y’know how you love me?” 

Alex raised an eyebrow, pushing Luke’s face away. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information, man, ‘cause I kinda hate you at the minute. For multiple reasons, actually, that include but are not limited to you literally climbing across my boyfriend, and you tripping Reggie up this morning meaning he caught his ribs on the doorframe.” 

“Lexi!” Luke complained, sticking his lower lip out. “I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to get to the table first because Ray got  _ pizza.”  _

Willie laughed and bumped his shoulder against Alex’s. “That  _ is  _ a pretty sound excuse, babe.” 

“He hurt Reg!” Alex protested. “ _ Reggie!  _ And besides, he’s just here to ask me to make him a crème brûlée, because I’m planning on coming out to Ray today and Luke thinks that-”

“-everything should be celebrated with crème brûlée.” Luke joined in for the last bit, and patted Alex’s cheek. “And Alex loves using a blowtorch, and he loves me, so he’s going to say yes.” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “I might not,” he retorted. “Maybe I never want to make a crème brûlée again. Maybe dying has removed my pyromaniac flair.”

“Firstly,” Willie poked Alex’s chest, “the idea of you with a pyromaniac flair is  _ beautiful _ and one day I want to see you with a flamethrower _ ,  _ and secondly, I’ve never had a crème brûlée, are you sure you don’t wanna make them?”

And then Alex had two pairs of imploring eyes looking up at him, which was honestly just cruel, because they both definitely knew that he would’ve given in pretty damn quickly.

“Okay! Okay. I’ll ask Ray if he can get me the stuff, he’s been asking when our next baking session would be, anyways.” 

Luke plastered himself against Alex’s front. “Thanks, Lexi. Make way too many, please, I’ll eat, like, five.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re a fucking bottomless pit, bro. Now, will you pretty please go bother Julie?” Alex asked, poking Luke’s ribs. “Go see if you can convince her to marry you, yet, so you, me and Reg can be brothers for realsies.” 

Luke’s jaw slacked, and he looked between Alex and Willie like that hadn’t occurred to him before, then scrambled out of Alex’s lap and ran towards the house. “Reg! Hey, Reg! Alex says if I marry Julie we’ll be real brothers!” He yelled as he went, seeming to forget that he was a ghost, and as such could teleport. 

Willie tilted his head up to press a kiss against Alex’s jaw. “You sure you  _ want  _ to be related to them? Even just by marriage?” He teased, tucking a stray bit of hair behind Alex’s ear. “I mean, Reggie I get, he’s a total sweetheart. But Luke?” 

“He grows on you,” Alex admitted, tugging Willie closer. “Until one day you’re having your daily internal rant about what a fucking dumbass he is and then you realise that oh shit, your internal voice sounds  _ fond of him.” _

“I’m sorry,” Willie’s shoulders shook as he attempted to suppress a laugh, voice slightly strangled. “Your  _ daily internal rant?”  _

“Do you not rant to yourself daily about anyone and everyone in your life that annoys you so that you can fuel yourself with spite instead of concentrated stress about what will happen if you don’t do everything?” Alex asked, plaiting a strand of Willie’s hair mindlessly. “According to my blood tests before I died it results in a significant blood pressure decrease.” 

Willie thudded his head back against Alex’s chest. “Every day I think to myself, this is it! There is nothing more Alex can say that will make me want to beat the dumbass out of him with a calculus textbook. And every day I’m proved wrong.” 

“You want to beat the dumbass out of me with a calculus textbook?” 

“Lovingly,” Willie assured him.

“There is  _ nothing  _ loving about calculus, bro. Nothing.” 

“Would beating the dumbass out of you with a really thick wad of sheet music be better?” 

“Much, thank you, babe.” 

——

“And you’re sure that they’re simple to make?” Ray asked for the millionth time, measuring out the cream as per Alex’s instructions. “And that you’re not remembering it wrong?” 

“Ray,” Alex started, eyebrow raised sternly, voice firm despite how shaky he felt. “This is Luke’s favourite dessert. I am Luke’s go-to baker. I have made crème brûlées quite possibly more times than I’ve baked everything else  _ combined.  _ I am definitely remembering this right.” 

“Okay, okay,” Ray surrendered, holding his hands up. “I’m very sorry for doubting your expertise, mijo.” 

“Thank you.” Alex carefully separated out egg yolks, allowing the  _ uncomfortablebadnotright  _ to build up in his chest until the words were forced out of his throat. “Uhm. So. I… I wanted to talk to you. About something. The thing, the thing from last - last time. That I said I wanted to say but couldn’t? I think. I think I’m ready.” 

Ray stopped weighing out sugar and squeezed Alex’s arm gently. “Whatever you need to tell me, I still love you like a son, okay?” 

“I- um.” Alex swallowed thickly and nodded, cracking his final egg. “You. I need you to not. Be looking - be looking at me? That’s why… I’ve left it. Until now, y’know?” 

“Of course.” Ray bumped his shoulder against Alex’s, then moved back to the sugar. “You’re safe here. I promise you, no matter what it is you have to say.” 

Alex nodded jerkily and grabbed a saucepan so he could face away from Ray, pouring the cream in. “I’m. Uh. Well.” He laughed awkwardly. “God I don’t even know why this is so hard. I’m. Uh.” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Ray assured him. “Not if you’re not ready.”

“I want you to meet my boyfriend,” he blurted, then slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “That is not how I meant to say it.” 

“Is this your ghost-friend?” Ray asked mildly, leaning past Alex to grab the saucepan just as the cream started bubbling. “Is he cute?” 

“Can we just- um. Circle back, a bit? Because like. The last time I did this. With, Uhm, the last time I did this was someone who I… who I saw as a parent, I guess? Well. They were my actual parents but. Same thing? Anyways. Um, that’s why I ran away, so. You’re cool with… this?” He made a vague hand gesture. 

Ray just shrugged. “Rose and I were friends for years before things became romantic. I met Bobby when I first met her. I’m sure you can tell where I’m going with this.”

Alex scrunched his nose up, too distracted briefly to focus on his panic. “I’m sorry, you hooked up with  _ Bobby?  _ That fucker never told me, I’m gonna kill him.” 

“Would you rather he’d told you?” Ray grinned, prodding his shoulder. “Do I start mixing?” 

“Yeah, I’ll pour this in as you go,” Alex confirmed, tipping the cream into the bowl of eggs and sugar slowly as Ray mixed. “And probably not. You’re basically my dad now, and if he thinks it’s weird that his best friend and his daughter’s ex-best friend are getting together, he’s not ready for the mindfuck that is my best friend and my dad hooking up when they were, what? Eighteen? And I was, y’know. Dead.” 

Ray stopped mixing suddenly, and grabbed Alex roughly to pull him into a hug. “You’re such a little shit,” he said thickly, pressing his cheek to Alex’s head. “I love you boys so much, and I will never,  _ ever _ , judge you for who you love.” 

Alex blinked away tears and hugged back tightly. “I love you too. We all do. None of us… none of us had the best home lives. Well. Mine was pretty great, til near the end. Bobby says I didn’t trust them ever, since I never took the boys round when they were home, but I wasn’t super traumatised or anything, and it was nothing like the yelling at Reg’s or the disappointment at Luke’s. And then… and then I came out, and I was so fucking blindsided? I’d been… I started wearing pink, and necklaces and stuff, and I thought… I thought that was me like, signalling to them? I guess, and I even got this rainbow bracelet… but they-” he buried his face in Ray’s chest to hide a sob and stayed there as his shoulders shook, only pulling back when he was sure he was okay. 

“I just… they thought I was just being - just being rebellious, because to them the worst thing I could be was g-gay… and they thought I knew that. So when I came out I thought… well, I thought that them allowing my “rebellious phase” to pass was them… well, them being okay with it.” He scrubbed his eyes. “And I just. Before even being sad or angry at them, I just felt so fucking  _ stupid.”  _

“Oh, Alex…” 

“Anyways,” Alex continued firmly, pulling back a little so he could make eye contact, as much as it made the  _ uncomfortablebadnotright  _ press harshly against his ribs and his hands shake. “You’ve been a really great dad, and I - and I knew this wouldn’t be a big deal because you’re  _ you,  _ but I didn’t… I couldn’t… I’ve lost parents once,” he finally decided on, voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn’t want - I couldn’t do that again. So. That’s why it took me so long, I guess?” 

“Hey, that’s fine, burbujito,” Ray told him, gently untangling himself so he could start stirring the custard again. “You don’t owe anybody an explanation. You do, however, owe me a story about how you met this boy.” 

“Okay.” Alex nodded slowly and grabbed the bottle of triple sec they’d had to buy special. “So, um. It was only a couple days after we’d first come back - from the dead, that is. And I was freaking out because there’s just  _ so  _ much that doesn’t make sense, and there was even more of it that we didn’t know at the beginning…” he paused to splash in the triple sec and vanilla, taking over from Ray with the stirring for a moment to make sure the consistency was right. “Okay, boil the water?” 

“Yes, chef!” Ray quipped, ruffling his hair as he passed to get to the kettle. “So you’re stressing, because you’re Alex, then what?”

“So I went for a walk to clear my head and stuff and just… do something not ghostly, y’know? I don’t need to walk, I don’t need to breathe, but doing things that I only  _ had  _ to do when I was alive helps, so I was walking down Hollywood Boulevard, and I was just getting used to walking  _ through  _ people when I hear someone yelling beep beep, and then they slam into me and we both fall over.” Alex relaxed a little when Ray flashed him an encouraging smile and started ladling the custard into ramekins. “And then we both stand up, and I’m telling you, da-” he cut himself off and coughed awkwardly to attempt to hide his slip up. 

“So… what you’re saying,” Ray said slowly, seemingly ignoring Alex’s close call, “is that your first meeting with your boyfriend was even  _ more  _ disastrous than Julie and Luke’s first meeting?” 

Alex sulked for a moment, but relented pretty quickly. “...yeah, pretty much.” 

“I'm not even surprised,” Ray sighed dramatically. “All five of my children are idiots. Please tell me your boyfriend isn’t an idiot, I want a fifth person for scrabble nights with Carrie, Flynn and Bobby.”

“Hey, Julie isn’t an idiot!” Alex protested, then processed Ray’s words. “Did you just imply that Bobby is  _ smart?  _ He still shares the collective Sunset Curve brain cell with us, he’s not smart.” 

Ray poured the boiling water into the baking dish, crouching to make sure it came up to halfway up the little dishes they’d used. “Julie is trying to date a ghost, mijo, and she’s teaching you to say things like collective brain cell.” He splashed cool water from the sink at Alex. “And I know Bobby is just as much an idiot as you five fools, but he knows long words.”

“That’s just because he spent a whole summer memorising the dictionary to impress a cute person who joined the GSA in junior year,” Alex informed him primly, throwing a sponge at Ray, and yelped when Ray grabbed a dishcloth and smeared it across his face. “Time out! We need to put the custards in the oven before we get soap water in them.” 

Ray laughed and stopped, “okay, I suppose you’re right. Plus Victoria is coming for dinner and if the kitchen is a mess…” the pair of them shuddered in unison. 

“She’ll kill us. She’s never even met us, and we’re dead, but she’ll strangle me before i even get to go to Sicily.” Alex lifted the tray into the oven carefully. 

“Excuse me? Since when were you going to  _ Sicily?”  _

“Oh, Willie and I are gonna go someday,” Alex explained, smiling shyly. “And to Biarritz, which is where my mom’s family was from, and the Lost Coast in King’s Range, which is where his uncle used to take him walking.” 

“That sounds awesome.” Ray pressed a kiss to his temple. “Too bad Victoria is gonna kill you before you can go for messing up the kitchen.” 

“I made crème brûlée, she better love me,” Alex huffed. “And if she doesn’t love Reggie or Luke, I’m gonna haunt her. The full nine yards: writing in pig’s blood, slamming doors, whispering late at night. It will be  _ war.”  _

“Woah, woah, woah.” Ray nudged Alex’s shoulder. “How about we don’t threaten my lovely cuñada who’s bringing us bacalaítos, hmm?” 

Alex heaved a sigh. “Fine, I guess. Oh! Um. I have some pictures. Of me and Willie… in case you, um… in case you wanted to see them?” 

“I’d love that, mijo. We’ve got a while before these are ready, why don’t you tell me all about him?” Ray guided him to the den. “Is he cute?” 

“So fucking cute,” Alex told him. “Like…  _ so  _ fucking cute.” 

——

Alex did not intend to be holding a blowtorch the first time he met Victoria. He really didn’t. He had always been the trusted child, the one member of Sunset Curve that didn’t constantly look like he was about to get in a fight or steal something or wheedle his way out of trouble. 

The one place he looked just as much trouble as his brothers was when he was gazing dreamily at a blowtorch and fucking about with the dial to see how big he could get the flame to go. Honestly, he was pretty trustworthy with a blowtorch, and he’d never use it for anything other than baking - and that one time Bobby had talked him into lighting (and throwing) a Molotov cocktail - but he knew from several blurry Polaroids Bobby had pulled out at brunch last Sunday that when he was near fire his eyes lit up in a way that was pretty damn concerning for those in his general vicinity. 

“Ray!” Victoria yelled, stopping short in the kitchen doorway. “¿Quien es el diablo rubio en la cocina?”

Alex slowly put the torch down. “Uh. Hi? My name is Alex. I’m the drummer - in Julie’s band, that is.” 

“Ray!” She yelled again. “Why are there children that aren’t yours in the house?” 

Ray appeared behind her. “Victoria! Good to see you? Cómo estás?” He kissed her cheek, motioning over his shoulder for Alex to hide the blowtorch. 

“Ray, why is there a child that isn’t yours in the kitchen?” She repeated, just as Luke ran in, chased swiftly by Reggie. 

“We are not putting a country song in our debut album!” Luke yelled, skidding to a stop in front of Alex. “Lexi, tell him we’re not putting a country song in our album!” 

“You’ll disappoint Julie!” Reggie rebuked, crossing his arms and pouting like he was five. It was an odd mix of charming and infuriating that it worked without fail. “She’s been taking violin lessons!” 

Luke paused, face doing the weird thing it did every time he was reminded of Julie’s incredible ability to pick up an instrument with very little effort, even as his eyes did the weird thing they did whenever he remembered how much his girlfriend loved his brothers. “She has?” 

Alex squeezed his shoulders from behind. “Yeah, buddy.” He pressed his cheek against Luke’s. “If we do a country song, I’ll write a drum solo so we can have a proper rock song,” he bargained, even though the idea made the  _ uncomfortablebadnotright  _ feeling inch up his chest. “I’ll even play the guitar for the country song if you want, I know country stuff better than you.” 

“Willie wants to see you in a flannel shirt on a promo photo doesn’t he?” Luke asked after a moment of consideration. 

Alex deflated a little, but nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. But,” he brightened, “Julie sounds killer on the violin and we all know Reg’s accent comes through when he sings country and it’s a  _ gift.”  _

“...Reg does sound awesome when he sings country,” Luke admitted, then finally relented. “Okay, we’ll do a country song.” 

Ray cleared his throat. “Great conflict management, mijos, I’m proud of you. This is Victoria, she’s Rose’s sister. Victoria, this is Alex, Luke and Reggie. They’re Julie’s band, and they’re here to stay for a while.” 

Victoria looked between them, shocked. “Where are your parents?” She asked eventually, and though her voice sounded concerned, Alex still flinched. 

“I ran away because they wanted me to be a normal kid.” Luke waved. 

Reggie threw up a peace sign. “They divorced and I’m pretty sure they forgot I existed.”

“I ran away because they hated me for being gay,” Alex added, forcing his voice to stay casual. 

“Oh, mijos,” Victoria sighed, eyes going glossy as she swept them all into an awkward group hug. “You have a place here, with Ray, okay? But if you need to get away from these idiots, you can always stop at my apartment for tamales and Pilates. ¿Lo entiendes?” 

Her arm hit Reggie’s ribs and he hissed, flickering out of existante as he always did when he got a flare or caught his ribs on something. He flickered back after a moment, face pale and drawn with panic. 

Victoria screamed. 

“Victoria!” Ray moved forward immediately and hugged her gently. “Okay, so. Minor detail. They’re ghosts, and they died twenty five years ago?” 

Reggie scuffed his feet. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. I have. Um, I have fibromyalgia? And when my ribs get touched it makes me Fritz a bit. I can’t help it. I’m really sorry.” 

As expected, Victoria quickly wilted in the face of Reggie’s guilt, softening. “Oh, it’s okay, Reggie. I shouldn’t have assumed it was okay to touch you.” 

“Oh, no.” Reggie shook his head, flushing. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“So, what you all said about your parents, it’s true?” She asked, sitting down heavily at the kitchen table.

“Kind of,” Luke agreed. “I did run away because my parents wanted me to be a normal kid, but that was in December ‘95, and we died a couple months later.”

“My parents didn’t divorce ‘til after I died,” Reggie admitted, sitting next to Victoria. “I… they forgot I existed a lot when they were still together, so I lived with ‘Lex and Bobby on and off, and then permanently after the spring of ‘95.”

Alex shoved Reggie lightly until he stood up, then sat down and tugged him down into his lap, resting his chin on Reggie’s shoulder. “I moved out in June of ‘94.” 

“I’m so sorry, niños,” she said. “Is there a fourth? This Bobby?” 

Ray blushed faintly. “Well. Um. Remember Trevor Wilson?” 

Victoria whipped her head over to look at him. “I swear, Ray. If you tell me these boys’ best friend is your ex and a famous musican, it may be too much for me.” 

“Okay.” Ray laughed awkwardly. “I won’t.” 

Reggie and Luke both turned to look at Ray, expressions betrayed. “You hooked up with  _ Bobby?”  _

“That’s what I said!” Alex exclaimed. “It’s weird, right?”

“ _ Yes!”  _ They said, glancing between Ray and Alex. “ _ Bobby?  _ Seriously?”

“Exactly!” 

Ray sank into a chair, hiding his face. “Alex, if you don’t move on, when I meet Willie I  _ will  _ tell him about you throwing a monopoly board at Julie’s face.” 

Alex shut his mouth so fast his jaw clacked, Reggie and Luke following suit at the implication that there were threats to follow. 

Ray smiled, “thank you, mijos. Alex, I think we have some caramelising to do?” 

“Okayyyy.” He sighed, then a thought occurred to him. “You want to meet him? Like… like if he was my girlfriend? I can.. can I bring him for dinner?” 

“Of course, Alex.” Ray frowned. “He’s your boyfriend, kiddo. Why wouldn’t he be welcome for dinner?” 

Alex shrugged, cheeks burning. “I guess I just. I knew you were okay with it but that’s different to being…  _ okay  _ with it, y’know?” 

“Alex.” Ray gripped his shoulders. “I love you, and whoever you love is just as important to me as whoever Julie loves, whoever Carlos will love, whether that’s a boy, or a girl, or someone who identifies as both, or neither. Okay?” 

“I-.. okay.” Alex nodded and let Ray pull him in for a hug. “Thank you.” 

“You don’t have anything to thank me for. Now, you, me, a blowtorch and some crème brûlées, okay?” 

He laughed and pulled back. “You don’t wanna see me with a blowtorch. I promise.”

“Every time you tell me that, I just get more and more curious, mijo.” Ray grabbed the crème brûlées from the fridge, and Alex picked the blowtorch off, grinning when Reggie and Luke immediately scrambled to the other side of the table. 

Victoria frowned. “Not to... I know you’re all actually forty something, but are you old enough to be using that?” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Alex reassured her, smiling the way parents had always cooed over when he was a kid. “My mom was a patisserie chef, I’ve been using these things since I had enough arm strength to hold one.” 

“No,” Luke disagreed. “Your dad once showed us a photo of you holding a blowtorch and your mom had to hold it up because you were really tiny.” 

Victoria shuddered. “All I can think of is little Carlos with a blowtorch.” 

There was a horrified pause as they all considered the hell that that would be, before Alex grabbed the three bowls of sugar he’d set aside. “Well, I think I’m a little more responsible than Carlos.” 

Ray snorted. “A little more  _ anxious  _ than Carlos, for sure. More responsible? Not likely.”

——

All in all, Alex was pretty fucking proud of his crème brûlées. They were slightly more burnt than he’d intended, but it had been twenty six years since the last time he’d used a blowtorch, and they tasted amazing Anyways. 

He was also pretty proud of how… well, normal, he’d managed to act around Victoria. After Luke and Julie had finished rambling about each other, he’d told her about Willie, shown her the pictures, invited her to dinner whenever he got Willie to come round, and by the time she left, their fridge full of leftovers and extra stuff that she’d brought, 

He told Willie as much, stammering slightly as he invited him for dinner. “He’s still not my dad, though,” he insisted. “It’s not meeting my parents until he’s seen Bobby dare me to do something stupid, which he hasn’t.”

“Bobby’s coming to this dinner thing, though. Isn’t he?” Willie grinned, laid half on top of him. 

Alex paused, having not previously considered that Bobby would likely go out of his way t make sure Alex embarrassed himself in front of Willie. “He can’t. I can’t let him come. He’ll get me to do something really stupid, man. I can’t.” 

“Aw, baby, don’t tell me you’d deprive me of the chance to see you making an utter fool of yourself because of your idiot brother,” Willie pleaded. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. From what I can tell, Bobby was the brains of the operation you can’t take this from me.” 

“Bobby was  _ not  _ the brains of the operation!” Alex flicked Willie’s forehead. “We’re all the same level of stupid, just in different directions. Bobby is stupid about academia, Reg is stupid about social cues, Luke is stupid about attractive people-”

“How did he even function around the band, then?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Alex hissed, blushing furiously. “And I’m stupid about emotions. Together we’re an incompetent mess.”

“And Julie?” Willie pushed, tracing circles on Alex’s cheek. “Is she stupid?”

“She’s stupid about Luke. In the most adoring and respecting way possible, she’s such a fool about that boy it’s honestly embarrassing,” Alex joked.

“Baby, you tripped over a door frame waving goodbye to me yesterday,” Willie reminded him. 

Alex rolled his eyes, feeling his ears burn. “I’m allowed to do that, you’re my boyfriend. Julie did that when she and Luke couldn’t even touch each other. They just pined from different dimensions.”

Willie thudded his forehead against Alex’s collarbone. “The five of you need genuine professional help,” he mumbled into Alex’s chest. 

“Bobby and Ray hooked up!” Alex blurted.

“The six of you need genuine professional help.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated if you enjoy, and feel free to drop by my [Tumblr](https://a-tomb-with-a-view.tumblr.com/post/623186092532924416/master-list-for-everything-ive-written-so-far) to chat or request a fic!   
> ((Pls talk to me I’m not scary I promise I am but a wee child)) 
> 
> (Also here’s a fun psa bc I’m still mad about something that happened to me like two years ago: ask people you don’t (and do) know before you hug them! Some people don’t like them, and for some people they hurt!)


	6. Soufflé

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Ray,” Alex started, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor. “Y’know how we’ve gotten pretty good at baking?” 
> 
> Ray suddenly looked slightly uncomfortable, but patted the space next to him on the sofa. “Oh, god. What have you got planned for us, mijo?” 
> 
> “I was thinking maybe soufflé?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) pls don’t @ me abt Bobby/Ray I didn’t mean to!!! But now I’m hooked   
> 2) ^^ the conclusion to Bobby/Ray will be in a sequel oneshot I’m doing for [@sonsetcurve ‘s holiday event](https://sonsetcurve.tumblr.com//) So stay tuned lol   
> 3) this is way longer and way more emotion-y than I planned for but I’m not mad I kinda like it   
> 4) enjoy!

“So, Ray,” Alex started, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor. “Y’know how we’ve gotten pretty good at baking?” 

Ray suddenly looked slightly uncomfortable, but patted the space next to him on the sofa. “Oh, god. What have you got planned for us, mijo?” 

“I was thinking maybe soufflé?” He asked, sitting down next to Ray. “I know everyone thinks it’s really hard but I’ve made it, like, a bajillion times, and it’ll help me stay not stressed because we’ll have to make it after everyone’s already eaten dinner, so we’ll get a little baking reprieve from socialising and the first thing I ever made the boys was a soufflé and I kind of want it to be the first thing I make Willie because I told him about my mom and how she taught me to make them and… and…” he trailed off after eventually losing steam, feeling colour rise to his cheeks. 

Ray squeezed his knee. “Hey, it’s okay. Of course we can make it. Write out a shopping list for me, and ask the boys what they want for dinner that night, and we’ll do it.” 

“Really?” Alex asked automatically, then paused. Of course Ray had said yes - Ray had never denied them anything like this. “I mean… thanks. I think you’ll really like ‘em.” 

“I’m sure I will,” Ray said, punching his shoulder lightly. “Now, tell me about how mean Carrie is being with this warm-up exercise she’s making you and the girls learn, I heard you bitching to Julie about it earlier and I’m intrigued.” 

Alex rolled his eyes, relaxing into the chair as he huffed. “Oh my god, it’s ridiculous! My leg does  _ not  _ go that high, and I’m dead! I don’t have muscles to loosen or limber up, it’s not gonna go any higher than it already does!” 

——

Soufflé was probably Alex’s most and least favourite thing to bake.

The first time he’d ever made it, way back in 86, when he was 8, it had gone kind of horribly. His mom had had to take a telephone call halfway through their attempt, and although she had enough experience to know that you couldn’t just abandon either soufflé batter  _ or  _ an eight year old, she’d done both anyways, and finally reentered the room half an hour later to find chunks of whipped egg white on the ceiling, and Alex trying his best to imitate the stirring technique she’d shown him. 

The second time had only been marginally better - he’d decided he wanted to learn to make them to surprise his dad for his birthday, but his mom was the  _ worst  _ at keeping secrets, so he attempted them by himself two years later. He’d been a pretty damn competent baker for a ten year old, but his mom hadn’t started explaining the technical stuff to him until his was thirteen, so he’d not known that the little bit of egg yolk in the whites would stop them rising, and after half an hour of fruitlessly trying to whip them up, he’d angrily given up and sworn never to try again. 

The third time, he’d been eleven and determined to bake the trickiest thing he could think of because he and Reggie and Luke and Bobby had been friends for almost six months now and they were a  _ band _ and they were all so cool and talented and he wanted to show them that he was too, outside of hitting something really fast. He’d gone about it properly, too: studied the recipe book in the kitchen beforehand, recruited his mom for help, scrubbed every piece of kitchenware they’d need so that nothing would have any grease. In the end they’d been  _ perfect,  _ and suddenly baking wasn’t just a thing Alex did with his mom because his mom liked it, it became a skill he honed, practicing regularly and trialing recipes and tinkering with them. 

When Bobby’s mom suggested that he could maybe have a whirl in their kitchen on his sixteenth birthday in 1994, three days after he’d moved quietly into their garage, he’d taken one look at their new marble island countertop, no thick, well-worn recipe book in sight, and promised himself he would never bake again. He wasn’t going to taint it with the memories of the dawning horror on his mom’s face as he forced the words out, or the ringing in his ears that sounded suspiciously like her stammered confusion and disapproval, or the feeling of his heart being cleaved right in two when she’d turned her face away when he’d gone to say goodbye. 

On the bad days, it made some macabre part of him laugh to think that he’d kept his promise to himself: he hadn’t baked anything for the rest of his life. 

On the worse days, he forced himself through churning out batches of cookies and macarons and brownies and let himself slip into autopilot as the imprint of his mom’s hand burning on his cheek and the bruised fingerprints he could’ve sworn were still there from all those decades ago when his dad had dragged him out warred with memories of Ray pulling him into hugs and asking to meet Willie and talking him down from panic. 

On the good days he left the kitchen door open and offered teaspoons of batter and sauce and custard to whoever walked by, took breaks to take Willie on a comprehensive tour of his favourite music stores in LA or to let Julie paint his nails or to sit with Reggie and Luke and Bobby and pretend it was 1995 and they were young and happy and almost unafraid. 

On the best days Ray baked with him. 

Even the days that were bad days were the best days when Ray baked with him. When everything went to utter shit and the panic was clawing up his throat because  _ ce gâchis est inacceptable, Alexander,  _ even when all he could think about was the time he’d kissed a boy behind the surf shop in Biarritz and his cousin had broken his nose, they were still the best days, because Ray would hug him and call him an idiot in a million different ways, and there was something about the old Spanish pop songs he liked to hum and the smell of sandalwood that reminded him that he was in a kitchen in 2020 and it had been twenty six years since someone had hurt him. 

It seemed only fitting that the first time Alex would make soufflé since Luke’s sixteenth birthday would be for his boyfriend to meet his father-figure in the house where he’d hidden from his parents, surrounded by a family that didn’t love him first, know him second, but loved him  _ because  _ they knew him, with not even a hint of the pain that had been dogging him - all of them, really, if he thought about how little Emily cared beyond Luke being  _ her _ son, about how shattering glass sent Reggie from totally relaxed to balancing on a knife’s edge of a panic attack, about how easy it had been for Bobby to erase himself - because right now it didn’t matter how he’d been hurt, only that he’d survived it long enough, in a manner of speaking, to end up here. 

There was something about scrolling through recipes on google instead of leafing through the stained and wrinkled pages of the Mercer sketchbook that was helping too, and the recipe he finally decided on - Classic French Lemon soufflé - was similar enough for ease of making, but different enough for comfort. 

——

“Are you sure you want me to meet your dad? And Bobby?  _ The  _ Bobby?” Willie asked for the millionth time, tugging uncomfortably on the sleeves of the hoodie he’d stolen from Alex. “I mean, like, are you  _ sure?”  _

Alex shrugged and wrapped his arms around Willie from behind, resting his chin on Willie’s shoulder. “They say they want to meet you, and I’m inclined to trust that neither of them would fuck me about on this.”

“You’re still panicking like crazy, aren’t you?” Willie tilted his head slightly to rest against Alex’s. 

“I would rather throw myself into an active volcano than walk into the house,” Alex confirmed, then brushed his lips against Willie’s temple as he straightened up. “But Julie would probably throw herself in as well just to drag me back here, and I don’t know enough about lava to prove it wouldn’t do whatever she told it to, so…” 

Willie laughed and took Alex’s hand, tucking a stray bit of hair behind his ear. “Onwards?” 

He breathed out slowly with his eyes closed, then nodded. “Onwards,” he agreed, and led Willie inside.

Fortunately, Carlos was the first person they ran into, and he was a little too busy feeling from Luke, who was chasing after him like a lunatic while yelling something about cheese, to notice much, asides from a quick “hi, ‘Lex, bye ‘Lex.” 

Unfortunately, that meant Alex couldn’t foist Willie onto Carlos for a bit whilst he found Ray and panicked and made sure everything was absolutely perfect and panicked and checked that Carrie and Bobby would be arriving soon and panicked and said hi to Victoria. Now he had to just go for it, and hope to god that Ray liked Willie. 

Willie, bless him, seemed to pick up on his discomfort and tangled his fingers with Alex. “This is gonna be fine,” he insisted, which probably would’ve been more helpful if he didn’t sound like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was reassuring Alex. 

“Oh, yeah,” Alex agreed, letting his eyes unfocus as he briefly imagined every possible way this could go wrong, then finally took a deep breath the way Luke always reminded him to. “I mean, what could go wrong?” 

They exchanged glances, and Willie’s lips quirked up in a teasing half smile. “Do you want that list in order of the chronology of me thinking of them, the likelihood of them happening, how funny each would be, or alphabetically?” 

Alex hummed, dragging him through to the kitchen. “I think that you should start with the funniest.” 

“Okay, so the funniest is obviously you getting flustered because I’m wonderful and you obviously want your dad and his boyfriend to love me, you accidentally set something - or several things - on fire, you burn down the house, nobody dies but the police investigation proves it was impossible for the fire to start spontaneously, but with nobody living having been in the kitchen, it becomes a buzzfeed unsolved case and it outshines the special Carlos is planning on doing once you guys go public,” Willie rattled off almost immediately as he sat on the table, swaying their hands. 

Alex stepped into the V of his legs, laughing. “Oh, really? You’ve clearly not thought about it very much, I’m not sure if I can trust your judgment. Also Bobby and Ray aren’t boyfriends.”

Willie rolled his eyes and laced his fingers together behind Alex’s neck, gaze flicking down to Alex’s mouth and back up. “First of all, you’re too busy panicking to see the truth, and secondly, I’ll have you know, Mr Mercer, that I am, in fact, an incredibly trustworthy source of information.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Alex leaned closer, playing with the strings of Willie’s - well, his - hoodie. After a second, the act dropped and he just grinned, probably looking dopey and stupid as all get out. “I love you.” 

Willie grinned and pulled him in. “I love you, too,” he murmured, before pressing his lips against Alex’s. 

Because it was the Molina house, and because the forces of the universe worked constantly to ruin Alex’s life, Ray cleared his throat not a moment later. “Is there another ghost friend you like to kiss, or should I assume this is Willie?” 

Alex thudded his head onto Willie’s shoulder. “You’re absolutely sure there’s no way to kill ghosts? None?” He didn’t bother to lower his voice. 

“I mean, there’s always offering you a choice between joining my immortal, dead houseband and fading away into the ether,” Willie suggested. “But you guys already tried that and enacted an entire found family AU with the antidote.” 

“I’ve got no idea what that means,” Alex replied, then finally turned around to face Ray. “Hi, Ray. This is Willie, he tried to run me over with a skateboard when I was staving off a panic attack. Willie, this is Ray, he’s doing his best to be my dad and I’m struggling with it a little because he’s not once called me sport or told me I should date Becky P from the cheer team, so if there’s any tension, it’s because I’m just a bit confused.” 

Ray snorted. “Or it’s because you’re an anxious mess and your idea of a healthy coping mechanism is spending a hundred dollars on ingredients and making me feel bad about my culinary skills?” 

Alex felt his jaw drop. “Are you allowed to say that?” 

“I have five kids, mijo, I can say what I want,” Ray informed him solemnly.

Before Alex could respond, Bobby burst in, apparently so used to popping in and out wherever he wanted that he just walked in without knocking, pressing a kiss to Ray’s cheek in passing. “Oh, hey, kiddo.” He grinned at Alex. “Is this the mystery ghost boyfriend?” 

Willie nudged Alex, shooting a meaningful glance at him, then waved at Bobby. “Hi, I’m Willie. Alex told me you can make him do stupid things?” 

Bobby grinned. “Oh, you’re my new favourite already. Alex is actually incredibly easy to manipulate. Did he ever tell you about the Molotov cocktail?” 

“No?” Willie looked between Alex and Bobby frantically. “Please tell me about the Molotov cocktail. I will literally die if I don’t hear this story.” 

“Babe, you’re already dead,” Alex reminded him fondly. 

“Whatever.” Bobby waved a hand. “So basically, Alex had this  _ huge  _ crush on his boy in the grade above us, way back in like, ‘93, and I was the only one in the band who’d actually gotten with anyone outside of the band, so I was the de facto relationship guru.” 

“Oh, God.” Alex groaned and buried his face in Willie’s chest. 

“Okay, so, Alex comes to me for help because we’re playing this gig for this girl in this guy’s grade’s sweet sixteen, and he wants to impress this boy, but subtly. And my advice, obviously, was to be  _ hardcore.”  _

Alex made an odd sort of whimpering sound and tugged his hood over his head. 

“But,” Bobby grinned, “Alex is mister catholic school boy baker, and he doesn’t know what the best idea for being hardcore is. So I take my chance, and tell him that duh, he should throw a Molotov cocktail at something. How much did you have to pay in damages to the school, Lexi?” 

Alex lifted his head, knowing his face was probably bright red with shame. “...Three thousand dollars.”

——

“So, do I call you Trevor or Bobby?” Victoria asked casually as Ray served up dinner. 

Bobby looked a little concerned. “Oh. Um. Bobby, probably? I don’t really mind, though.” 

“Hmm.” She nodded and stabbed her fork into a slice of beef in a way that honestly seemed a little threatening, but waited until Ray had ducked back into the kitchen before speaking again. “And, your intentions with Ray?” 

Alex, Reggie and Luke choked on the bites they’d all been taking. “Tía!” 

“Oh, shush, mijos. Bobby is a grown man, I’m sure he can answer a couple questions about what his plans are for my cuñado, sí?” She pushed, watching him closely. 

Bobby shook his head slowly. “Uh… I don’t have any plans? Should I have plans for something? Is it his birthday?” Panic dawned across his face. “Oh my god, did I forget his birthday?” 

Willie looked between Alex and Bobby like he thought it might be a joke. “Is he serious? Are you fucking dumb?” 

Carrie laughed. “Oh, no, sweetie. Welcome to the Molina-Wilson family, where the only person who is aware of how deep he’s in only knows because of the intense gay panic that strikes him every time he thinks about his boyfriend.” 

“Hey!” Luke and Alex frowned. 

“I know how deep I’m in!” Luke protested, slumping so he could prop his head on Julie’s shoulder. “Jules do I not ramble about you enough? I can write you more songs?” 

Julie blushed and squeezed his arm. “No, you’re fine, Luke. Promise.” 

Alex held a hand up. “I’m allowed to gay panic, at least I’m in an actual relationship with definitions!” 

“Just because you’re beings of the same dimension..” Julie and Luke muttered at the same time. 

Reggie coughed. “Can we swing back to Bobby apparently not knowing that he’s still into Ray despite him being the only member of sunset curve that can process his feelings?” 

“Woah, woah, woah.” Bobby held both hands up, looking between them all frantically. “I’m not still into Ray? We kissed a couple times and went on, like, five dates, back in ‘97, then my music got big - well,  _ your _ music got big - and by the time my life calmed down enough for that kind of thing again, we had daughters and Ray and Rose were the most enamoured couple you’ve ever met.” He shrugged. “It’s been over twenty years, kids. It’s not been like that for a very long time.” 

Julie coughed. “Fools.” 

Carlos skidded into the room and his chair just before Ray ran in after him, and Alex supposed they were pretty damn lucky that they’d all been left dumbstruck by Bobby’s stupidity for long enough that there was no suspicious drop in conversation when they came in. Ray placed the final plate on the table and sat down next to Bobby, knocking their elbows together.

“Let’s eat?” He suggested, winking at Alex. 

Bobby nodded and took a bit hurriedly. “So, what are you baking for us today, you two?” He asked, unsurprisingly anxious to change the subject. 

“Soufflé,” Ray answered casually, not expecting the way Reggie, Luke and Bobby immediately looked at Alex.

“Soufflé?” Luke read across the table to grab Alex’s hand. “You sure, man?” 

Alex nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah. I think it’s time.” 

Reggie leaned against his side. “You don’t gotta, if you’re not ready. We’ll take pancakes if that’s what you’re up to.” 

Before Bobby could add anything, Julie and Carrie both held their hands up in a T for timeout. “What’s with the soufflé?” They asked at the same time, then shot each other jokingly dirty looks. 

“Hooray for childhood trauma?” All four boys suggested as one, shrugging. 

“My mom made them with me,” Alex added, staring at the table. 

Victoria clapped her hands. “Stop pressuring the poor boy! He said he wants to make soufflé, he’s capable of saying no later if he needs to, and he’s capable of asking for help if he needs to, stop making him talk. Eat!” 

Bobby kicked Alex’s leg gently under the table and smiled reassuringly at him, but everyone else quickly went back to eating, avoiding eye contact with Victoria so she didn’t do something crazy, like vaporise them by pure Will.

——

“So, mijo, what do we need to do for these?” Ray asked once they’d finished clearing up from dinner and got everyone to watch a film in the living room. “Anything fun?” 

Alex shook his head. “Step one is just getting the ingredients ready, greasing the bowls, preheating the oven. With this recipe we’ve got to be step to step to step - everything has to be ready to move on the second we’re finished.” 

Ray nodded immediately. “Just tell me what to do, kiddo.” 

“Can you start by just buttering the ramekins? Just a thin smear, and then sprinkle a little bit of caster sugar on the inside?” He asked as he grabbed as many little bowls as he could find. “And after that if you could separate eggs? We need twelve egg whites and six egg yolks, all the other egg yolks can go in a separate bowl for custard or scrambled eggs later.” 

“Aye, aye, captain.” Ray followed his instructions, checking that the ramekins were greased to the right degree before getting started on the eggs.

It only took a minute before Alex cracked, which was entirely unsurprising. “My mom’s family were French,” he started, keeping his eyes trained on the bowl he was measuring sugar into. “And she always felt so disconnected from it, because her parents moved out here from Biarritz when she was fourteen, so she baked - a  _ lot _ \- because she liked making things that smelled like the patisseries and boulangeries near where she lived, and a lot of the smells here are different, especially in a shitty apartment over a pizza place in downtown LA.” 

Ray nodded and started measuring out the liquids, motioning for Alex to continue.

“And, so she taught me to bake when I was really little. My first two goes at making a soufflé went really badly, but my third try - to make for the boys - went perfectly, when I was eleven. Baking with her was always weird, strictly in French, to make sure I learnt the language properly, and always super critical, but lovingly. And then, when I got older, and started doing other stuff, it was the one thing that really stuck with me. The last time I baked a soufflé was for Luke’s sixteenth birthday in ‘94, but between my third and my last, I must have made over a hundred.” 

“Oh, wow. She sounds like… a formidable woman?” 

Alex laughed weakly. “I guess you could say that.”

Ray smiled reassuringly. “Tell me more?” 

“Okay…” he nodded slowly. “So, um, it was kind of our  _ thing,  _ y’know? I could bake all the other stuff by myself, and I could probably make a soufflé in my sleep by now, but I didn’t want to, and it was what we did that kept us close. I ran track, which my dad was a fan of, and I baked the more complicated stuff with my mom, even when I didn’t need her help. I tried so many times to tell her everything, during our sessions. About the three weeks Luke and I dated in sixth grade, about the huge crush I had on Bobby, for, like, a year in eighth grade, about having panic attacks after shows and drumming until my fingers bled and I could breathe. But…” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ray said softly. “We don’t have to talk about this. Can you tell me what I need to do next?” 

Alex blinked, looking down at the cornstarch and cream he’d already whisked together without thinking. “Oh. Um. I need you to heat the milk? Just until it starts to simmer a bit, then take it off.” 

Ray nodded and poured the milk into the pan Alex had laid out at the start. “So… your year long crush on Bobby, huh?” 

“Oh shit.” He winced. “It’s totally weird that I crushed on your boyfriend when I was in high school, isn’t it?” 

“Uh… kiddo… me and Bobby aren’t dating?” He turned away to switch on the hob and keep an eye on the milk, and Alex was at least 25% sure that his ears were red. 

“Oh. Right.” He grinned to himself. “Of course, I meant ex boyfriend. Duh. Anyways, so I found it really hard to talk to my mom about it because I guess… she thought she was teaching me her language and her history - she told me about my family members through the additions and modifications they’d made to the recipes in the book - and I thought she was carving out space because she wanted to spend time with me. When I tried to get personal about things, she pushed more grammar lessons and random anecdotes on me.” 

“That sucks,” Ray sympathised. “Is that - is that what led to the great miscommunication thingy? About your coming out?” 

Alex shrugged. “I guess. Until I properly came out it didn’t really get worse than that, but by then she didn’t know me very well, and neither did my dad. I haven’t spoken French since, and this is the first soufflé I’ve baked. Our gingerbread cookies were the first thing I’ve baked at all.” 

“What about when you lived with Bobby?” Ray asked, taking the milk off the boil when it started to bubble up. “You just quit cold turkey?” 

“Now pour just a little bit into here,” he directed, whisking as Ray complied. “Yeah, pretty much, though. I couldn’t bring myself to do it - not until Reggie asked. Okay, and now the rest of it.” 

Ray added the last of the milk and watched closely as Alex whisked it in and then poured it back into the pan. “Why did Reg asking changing things?” 

“I…” he shrugged helplessly, turning the heat down before putting the pan back on the hob. “It’s Reg. When I was panicking about telling you about Willie, Bobby told me that I already knew I was safe because I trusted you around Reg and Luke. I guess we’ve always been like that - not trusting people with each other until they’ve earned it. I don’t think it even occurred to me  _ not  _ to, because I knew Reg wouldn’t think about suggesting something that wouldn’t be good for me. And we started with a couple recipes I’d never even made before, so by the time we reached the macarons, I was already comfortable. Can you keep whisking that for me? It should get thick after a couple of minutes.” 

“Mhm.” Ray took over the whisking, but kept an eye on Alex. “You four are kind of incredible, y’know?” 

Alex looked up from where he’d started getting out the hand mixer. “What do you mean?” 

Ray shrugged. “I guess I’ve just never seen anything like it. I thought Julie and Flynn knew each other better than anybody knew anybody else in the whole world - hell, I thought Trev and I knew each other pretty damn well - but you guys just  _ get  _ each other on a whole new level, and Bobby is a completely different person around you guys. A happier person.” 

“Oh…” Alex paused as he figured out how best to word it. “I think part of it is making music together. I think that’s why Flynn and Julie click, too. When you make music with someone - especially when the lyrics are like the lyrics Luke and Jules come up with - you’re giving them a piece of yourself. Sunset Curve - and Julie and the Phantoms, I guess - started as a band of convenience, but drumming was an outlet for my anxiety, the band was a shelter from Reggie’s parents, our friendship was a place for Bobby to be open and soft, and Luke and Julie? They pour their everything into what they write.” 

“That they do,” Ray agreed quietly. 

“When something you do every day is so special to everybody there… when all of you put a piece of your trust, and your soul, into a project like that… you end up learning each other. Reggie made rate-your-pain music scales based on what songs we were drumming or miming or whatever, and I kept the guest bedroom next to mine stocked with little snacks and fresh sheets for when one of them needed a night away from their folks -” he stopped mixing the egg yolk and sugar to laugh bitterly, remembering how often Bobby had been alone, “-Or the lack of them - and Luke would let us ramble for hours, and then turn around and give us a song that conveyed exactly what we needed to say, and Bobby helped us actually process our feelings.” 

Ray took the pan off the heat as the mixture started to thicken as Alex had described. “What now? That sounds amazing, by the way. What the four of you have.” 

Alex smiled up at him, sure his eyes were probably glassy. “Now we mix this into the man.” He raised the yolk and sugar mixture to show him, then started scraping it into the pan. “I guess it was, but now it’s growing. We have you guys. Us four are always gonna be a little different - in the same way Flynn and Julie are always gonna be a little different - but families grow. This one is, for sure. And about Bobby? He’s not a different person to the one you knew. It’s just… it’s like a broken bone - Carrie was telling me about this earlier. Sometimes when a bone heals badly, you have to re-break it and allow it to heal properly. Bobby isn’t a different bone, he’s just been re-broken and set to heal.” 

“When did you get so wise?” Ray laughed wetly and cleared his throat. “Do we have to let that thicken again?” 

“Yeah, just add the lemon juice and zest first, please? It’s gonna take a bit longer for this one to work.” Alex waited until he had the lemon in and the pan was back on the hob before he continued. “And I didn’t get wise, Carrie was telling me that. But anyways, all of this was basically to say that soufflé was kind of a special dish for me. Reg and Luke have been trying to tell me for ages that I can’t let myself be controlled by them, by the promises I made myself when I was sixteen and hurting.” 

“But…” Ray prompted gently, whisking the mixture vigorously. 

Alex shrugged and rested his head on Ray’s shoulder momentarily. “I guess I just needed to see what I have. Bobby pointed out that I already trusted you, and then I came out to you, and you made me realise how easy it would’ve been for my parents  _ not  _ to do what they did, y’know? All they had to do was tell me they still loved me, and I didn’t deserve what they did to me. If there’s a bare minimum, they did so much less, but you did so much  _ more.  _ I guess it just made me realise that I could spend the rest of my after-life thinking about how I could’ve made it easier for them to accept me, or I could just acknowledge that I was a kid, and move on.” 

Ray stopped whisking to squeeze him in a bone crushing hug. “I’m so proud of you, and I love you so much, mijo.” 

“I love you too, dad,” Alex said before he could stop himself, but after a moment's hesitation he realised he didn’t really want to, anyway. “But… uh… the custard is gonna burn. If we stay like this.” 

“You are something else, kid,” Ray told him fondly, but moved back to whisking anyways. “Now go get your boyfriend in here. We’re just gonna be stood around and I want to get to know him.” 

——

Whisking egg whites was significantly harder when you had a whole person practically hanging off of you, but Alex found Willie’s weight and the slight dig of his chin hooked over Alex’s shoulder comforting, so he didn’t comment, just kept going until the peaks were a little firm. 

Ray peered over his other shoulder. “They look good, kiddo.” 

“Yup, is the custard cooled enough?” Alex asked, nudging Willie until he stood up properly. 

“I think so.” Ray grabbed the pan and offered it to Alex. “So, Willie, Alex was telling me you like to skateboard? You ever heard of Tony Hawk?” 

Willie scrunched his nose up, which, if you asked Alex, was the cutest thing in the world. “Kinda? I’ve heard kids at the skatepark mention him but Caleb was very anti-keeping up with the times, so I never really got to research him.” 

Ray’s eyes lit up and he shooed Willie towards his laptop, leaving Alex to combine the custard and egg. It was probably a wise decision, Ray always got too caught up in mixing as fast as possible to want to fold something like this. “I did some of his videography, back when he was a really big thing, so I might have some sitting around. If not we can always check YouTube.” 

Alex watched them fondly as he finished folding. 

Julie appeared at his side just as he finished spooning the mixture into the ramekins. “I hope I don’t look this sappy when I watch dad and Luke together,” she teased.

He snorted and bumped his hip against her. “Hey, I’m just a simple ghost guy watching his ghost boyfriend bro out with his new living dad. I can look as sappy as I want.” 

They paused for a moment after Alex had slid the dishes into the oven just to watch the two together, Willie’s jaw dropping a little as he watched Tony skate, Ray torn between watching his film proudly and smiling encouragingly at Willie. 

“Can’t argue with that,” Julie admitted, and hip checked him playfully. 

He laughed and led her through to the living room. “Can you start a timer on your phone? I’ve got no idea how to do it.” 

She snorted. “You’re so  _ old.  _ How long?” 

“Fifteen minutes, please, Jules.” Alex sprawled out half on top of Bobby, laughing at Carrie’s offended noise when he kicked his feet into her lap. “Shush, you, I’m  _ still  _ aching from the rehearsal I joined three days ago.” 

Carrie opened her mouth to respond to that, but seemed to realise he probably had a fair point, because she turned back to the weird, intense game of music trivia she’d been playing with Luke. 

——

Fifteen minutes later, he corralled Ray away from the laptop, and beamed up at him when the soufflés came out of the oven having risen perfectly. He called the others through, immediately opening his arms up to Julie when she made a beeline for him. 

He watched as Ray dusted sugar over the top of them, Willie and Reggie cheering while the others watched like normal people. 

Victoria claimed the first one, and blew a kiss at him after taking her first bite. The others followed suit quickly, and he smiled down at Julie. “I think we succeeded.” 

Carlos made a dramatic groan. “Lexi, you’re a genius. An  _ genius,  _ and can you pretty pretty please bake Christmas cookies? Please?” 

Alex laughed and nodded. “Sure thing, little dude. You gonna pay me in candy?” 

Victoria reached across to swat his arm. “Don’t encourage him to establish a Candy barter economy, you know he’ll do it.”

“Alright, alright,” Alex surrendered, holding his hands up. “I’m sorry, Tìa. I promise not to encourage financial smarts.” 

“You boys are nothing but trouble,” she chided, pinching his cheek. “You girls, too,” she added, when Carrie stuck her tongue out at Reggie. 

When everyone dispersed again; Willie and Ray back to the laptop, Luke and Carlos to attempt to play jenga without a cross-dimensional murder, Carrie, Bobby, Victoria and Reggie back to the living room, Alex poked Julie and nodded towards the washing up. “Come help me?” 

“Ugh, you’re so lucky you can bake,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes. “I think  _ you’re  _ lucky I can bake, actually.” He kept an eye on Ray and Willie, warmth bubbling up in his chest. “It’s so stupid, but I’m so fucking happy that they like each other,” he told her quietly. 

Julie grinned up at him. “It’s not stupid. How do you think I feel when I see Carlos and Luke bonding? They’re our family, and the people that mean the world to  us. When Reggie and Flynn high fived for the first time, I swear I almost cried.” 

“Yeah, I guess..” he put the dishcloth down and hip checked her gently. “Hey… I know we big you up all the time because of your voice and how awesome we are, but I don’t think we give you enough credit for what you  _ did.”  _

“I don’t know what you mean,” Julie admitted, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I mean, you saw three sad ghosts appear in your garage and instead of letting Carlos exorcise us, or moving out, or any of the million things you could’ve done, you helped to fix us.” 

Julie shook her head. “You didn’t need  _ fixing.”  _

Alex flicked her shoulder. “Jules, Luke is at peace with his parents. Reg feels safe around an adult. I just introduced my  _ boy _ friend to someone I see as a father. Do you really think we could’ve done that by ourselves?” 

“Uh.. yes?” She flicked him back. “I didn’t do  _ any  _ of that. Like, ninety percent of it was our dad.”

Alex ignored the warmth that spread through him at the use of the word  _ our.  _ “I’m not pinning our happiness or our decisions on you, I’m just.. thanking you for giving us the opportunity. I’ve never had this many things go right for me before, and it started with you deciding the idiot teenage dead guys in your garage could stay for a while.”

Julie nodded after a moment. “You’re welcome. And I’m - I’m really glad things are looking up for you. You deserve it all, and I’m happy for you, ‘Lex.” 

“Yeah,” Alex kissed her forehead and hugged her close with one arm. “I’m happy for me too.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated if you’ve enjoyed!   
> Honestly Idek what to do with myself now this is over but I’ll still be writing lots of jatp stuff and the don’t kill me verse will probably be ongoing forever 😂😂   
> Also I made a soufflé! And it actually went as smoothly as Alex’s did and I have no idea how but that’s why there’s no baking drama lol but [go check it out!](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSGVwJuC/)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I love baking and haven’t done so in a while so I used this as an excuse to start again lol, so if you don’t have any mental frame of reference for a shoddily iced gingerbread dinosaur, I made a tiktok so y’all can see (it’s not really self promo bc this is the only thing I’ll be making videos about lol) and I will be doing the same for each chapter so [ Go check it out ](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSVBDEKM/)  
> You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://maybeiwanttheoceantoburn.tumblr.com/post/623186092532924416/master-list-for-everything-ive-written-so-far) If you wanna chat about anything :))  
> which is where I’ll be posting the recipes :)  
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated if you enjoyed, and constructive criticism is also welcome :)  
> \- meg


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